


Reyna's Assorted Miraculous Ladybug Tumblr Fics

by DarkReyna16



Category: Miraculous Ladybug, The Sims (Video Games)
Genre: Author's Favorites, F/M, M/M, Tumblr Fic, realized a little late that I should really save these somewhere that ISN'T tumblr...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-05-19 02:25:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19347637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkReyna16/pseuds/DarkReyna16
Summary: A random gathering of written work rescued from the hell dumpster that is Tumblr.Further descriptions for each piece will be in the chapter summaries.





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> What it says on the tin.
> 
> Took me a couple hours to find and grab most of them...there's still more over there. ._. Incredible just how much bullshit I wrote over the past couple years. XP
> 
> If you haven't seen any of these before, enjoy! <3 (For those who have, enjoy never having to hunt for these ever again, LMAO.)
> 
> First up is a rather spicy (read: smutty) short with DJWiFi. Please pay attention to these summaries in the beginning; they'll tell you what to expect for the coming chapters. You have been warned!
> 
> ~Reyna

Nino hummed, breathing deeply. He knew, vaguely, that he was dreaming—it was just one of those senses he had—and he knew that it was probably about time for him to wake up, because he always woke up just minutes before his alarm went off, annoyingly enough.

Still, he didn’t want to leave the dream just yet, because it was getting so _good_.

‘ _Mm, just like that,_ ’ he thought to himself, letting out a shaky breath as his dream continued, starring his girlfriend, as always, her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock as she teasingly sucked at him before going all in. The heat of her mouth was almost too much; Nino unconsciously bucked his hips, moaning under his breath. Alya gave the best blowjobs, even in his dreams.

She giggled, and Nino sighed, missing that sound. It had been three weeks since she had left for her assignment in America, and though he couldn’t be more proud of her and knew she would only be gone for one more week, his ache for her would not be satisfied until she returned.

“Niiiinoooo,” she sang after popping his cock out of her mouth, a teasing lilt to her voice. “It’s time to wake up, baby.”

Nino scrunched his brow and groaned in displeasure. He didn’t want to wake up—this was such a good dream! Couldn’t he have this, at least?

Something was tickling his face. Nino batted at it, suspecting a fly or something. Damn, did he fall asleep with the window open again?

There was a soft sensation on his cheek, and then his neck. He grunted a little, moving his head. That…felt too real. What was that…?

“Nino,” someone whispered into his ear, and Nino’s eyes flew open.

“Wh—?! Babe!” Nino yelped, squinting enough so that some of Alya’s features came into view. “Wh—what are—I thought you were in America!”

Alya chuckled, giving him a wink as she straddled him.

“I did good work, so I got off a week early.” Nino snatched his glasses off his bedside table in time to see the devious look that crossed Alya’s face. “Speaking of getting off…”

She casually rocked forward, and Nino hissed at the friction. Oh god, it had been way too long—

Since she seemed so eager, Nino wasted no time in lunging at his girlfriend, kissing her fiercely as he stripped her of every inch of clothing she was wearing. Alya let out a breathless laugh, lifting her hips to help him get her out of her panties.

“You’re impatient.”

“Three weeks,” Nino said as an explanation, his long fingers pressing into Alya’s soft skin as he nuzzled her inner thigh. “It doesn’t sound like a long time, but it really, really is.”

“Couldn’t stand being away from me that long, cou—ah,” Alya’s teasing was interrupted by the hitch of her breath as Nino buried his face in between her thighs, tasting her for the first time in three long, lonely weeks. He glanced up, chuckling at the way she watched him with hooded eyes, biting her lip. He gave her another teasing lick before lifting his head for a moment.

“Tell me about your trip, babe,” he said, a hand stroking down her stomach, the other gripping her thigh as he leaned down again to continue enjoying her. Alya let out a huff.

“N-now?”

“Mm-hm,” Nino hummed, smirking inwardly at the way her thighs clenched around him.

“Uh…okay, so, th-the assignment was pretty cool, uh, interview with one of the—ahh—A-American Miraculous users. They were—oh—a pair, just like L-Ladybug and Chat Noir, and—oh _god_ , Nino,  _yes,_   _there, right there_ —”

Alya appeared to completely lose her train of thought after that, moaning and panting under him, but Nino didn’t mind. Instead, he just watched the show, watched the way her eyes squeezed shut behind her glasses, the way her free hand gripped her hair as the other found its way into his hair, her nails scraping his scalp as he serviced her. He slipped a finger inside her, slowly working that bundle of nerves that she had taught him to find without fail, and had the pleasure of watching her back arch as she came, her mouth wide open as she cried out, only to collapse onto the bed a moment later, because her trembling legs wouldn’t hold her weight.

As she recovered, Nino withdrew his finger, grinning down at her.

“What was that about the American Miraculous holders?”

“Who the fuck cares?” Alya replied, breathless. She seized him by his shoulders and pulled him down onto her, kissing him greedily. “You. Inside me. Now.”

Nino laughed.

“Someone’s impatient,” he teased, echoing her from earlier as he wriggled out of her grasp to get a condom. Alya huffed behind him.

“Three weeks is a really long time,” she complained, and Nino chuckled as he unwrapped the condom and slid it on. “As much as I like my alone time, I definitely can’t make myself cum like that.”

“Oh, so that’s what you keep me around for,” Nino joked, joining her on the bed. Alya rolled her eyes and pulled off her glasses, her legs going around his waist as he positioned himself over her.

“Yeah. That, and I love you or something.”

Nino grinned, leaning over to kiss his facetious girlfriend.

“I love you or something, too,” he said, reminding himself to be gentle as he slid his throbbing cock into her, hissing at how wet and warm and ready she was. Alya mewled, lifting her hips eagerly, and Nino’s amusement was immediately overridden by need. Still, he took his time, working up to a slow, even rhythm, watching the breaths that left Alya with every thrust. True, it had been three weeks, but that didn’t mean they had to rush anything. Alya was home now, and Nino had missed her, so he was going to take his time to show her just how much.

“Oh, Nino,” Alya sighed, and Nino felt her tighten around him, so he picked up the pace, his shaky moans mingling with Alya’s breathless gasps, the headboard joining in with the percussion of knocking into the bedroom wall. Their neighbors hated it when they had sex for this exact reason—they had had several angry notes taped to their door about it—but for the life of him, Nino could not stop and be courteous enough to stick a pillow in between the headboard and the wall. Besides, he knew for a fact that the sound turned Alya on—the louder the better.

“Oh, yes, Nino, _more,_ ” Alya commanded, her ankles locking against his back, her nails digging into his skin. Nino refused to hold back, giving her absolutely anything she wanted in this moment, because she was his and he was hers, and they were finally together again after three long weeks, and he had missed her so much, and he loved the noises she made when they made love like this, loved the way her expression evolved into absolute bliss as he slammed into her and the headboard smashed against the wall like they would break it down if only they were ambitious enough—

“Oh my god, yes!” Alya cried out in triumph, and Nino quickly followed her, his body wracked with shivers as he came, collapsing against Alya as they finished. He pushed his glasses up onto his forehead, for they had fogged up and were in the way now, and breathed deeply, nuzzling into Alya’s neck. There came the predictable pounding on the wall from their grumpy neighbors, but both he and Alya ignored it, basking in the afterglow of their reunion.

“Mm. I missed you, baby,” Alya sighed, and Nino hummed his agreement, sitting up to kiss her.

“Welcome home, babe.”


	2. Need Me a Nino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An OT4(ish) fic about what happens when Nino suddenly bulks up over the summer...and Adrien and Marinette take notice. NSFW; tread with caution.

“Alya! Hey, Alya!”

Alya turned, already grinning at the sound of the familiar voice. She only had a moment to prepare herself before Marinette threw herself into her arms, but it was all right; she had had years of practice with Marinette’s enthusiastic shows of affection.

“Hey, girl!” She greeted fondly, stepping back to look her friend over. “Wow, look at that tan. I’m assuming you and Adrien enjoyed your summer?”

“Italy was  _amazing,_  Alya,” Marinette gushed at once, a smiling Adrien joining them as she spoke. “There was so much to do and see, and I must’ve taken, like, a thousand pictures, and we got all these cool souvenirs and I  _wish_  you and Nino could’ve joined us!”

“Sorry, hun,” Alya said, patting Marinette’s back in apology. “But you know I had my internship, and Nino’s trip to Morocco lasted all summer.” She pouted. “Hell, I haven’t even seen him yet. He was supposed to get back yesterday, but his flight was delayed.”

“That’s not good,” Adrien noted, glancing up at their  _lyceé_ in some concern. “It’s our last year before university…it won’t look good if he skips the first day.”

Alya frowned, glancing down at her phone. No text from him since last night…she hoped he was all right.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Marinette was quick to assure them, ever the optimist. “Nino’s totally responsible; if we just keep an eye out for him–”

“Looking for me?”

“About ti–” Alya began to gripe upon hearing the familiar voice of her boyfriend. As she spun to give her boyfriend a mock glare and a hard time, the look dissolved into absolute shock, and the words died in her throat.

Morocco agreed with Nino. It agreed with Nino so hard that it had somehow transformed him from the skinny late bloomer Alya loved into this… _man._

Seriously, he had to have grown at least another foot–Alya had to crane her neck back to look him in the face–and his skinny limbs were nowhere to be found, replaced by broad, strong-looking arms and legs, and a solid torso. The lingering boyish roundness of his face had disappeared behind scruff that covered his jaw, and his hair was longer than Alya had ever seen it, curling slightly at the ends.

The only thing that hadn’t changed was the way he looked at Alya, his eyes like melting honey as he smiled at her. When Alya could only gape at him, however, the smile faltered.

“Uh, babe?” He asked, glancing uncertainly between her and Adrien and Marinette. “Guys? It’s me, Nino. Remember?”

“N-Nino?” Marinette squeaked behind Alya, sounding just as shocked as Alya felt. She didn’t turn around to check.

“Whoa,” Adrien breathed, sounding strangely breathless. “Nino, you look–you look–”

“Oh, yeah,” Nino laughed a little self-consciously as he looked down at himself. “I was really busy on my uncle’s citrus farm. I was put to work almost as soon as I got there, and before I knew it, I kind of bulked up, I guess.”

“‘Kind of’?” Alya choked out, moving forward now to press her hands against Nino’s abdomen, making him yelp from the sudden contact. Solid body met her hands, and she felt him up shamelessly, feeling herself flush at the changes. “Nino, you’re a  _man._ ”

“Well, I mean, we’re all eighteen this year, but–mmph!”

He didn’t get to finish–Alya had yanked him down to her level, and was registering the feel of scruff against her face as she fiercely kissed him. There were uncomfortable coughs behind her, but Alya didn’t care about anything that wasn’t the sensation of Nino’s arms slowly wrapping around her, reacquainting himself with her as she familiarized herself with the new changes in his body. God, how had he gotten so foxy in such a short amount of time?

Nino laughed a little breathlessly as he pulled back, grinning at her in an embarrassed way.

“I missed you too, babe,” he assured, her, nudging his nose against hers before he glanced up at the sound of the bell for homeroom ringing. “But we don’t exactly have time to–”

Alya ignored him, seizing his arm and yanking him after her with more effort than it used to take;  _damn_ he had gotten buff.

“Alya!” Marinette called after them, sounding worried. Alya ignored her, too.

“Babe, seriously,” Nino said as Alya dragged him into the building, in the opposite direction of the classrooms. “We’re gonna miss homeroom.”

“Fuck homeroom,” Alya tossed back casually, pausing at a promising-looking door. She flung it open, finding a low-stocked closet. Perfect.

“Alya–”

“Nino,” Alya replied, turning to give him a simmering look; the heat that rushed to his face let her know that he finally realized that she was serious. “I haven’t seen you all summer, and you come back looking like  _that._  How do you expect me to just go to homeroom like a good student, when all I want to do is have you ravish me?” She eyed his shirt pointedly. “I want to see  _exactly_  how much you changed.”

Nino made a muted noise at the back of his throat and briefly closed his eyes.

“It’s too early for you to be turning me on like this,” he muttered, nevertheless encroaching upon her space, his body heat a physical touch. Alya grinned and backed into the closet.

“Then do something about it, big boy.”

* * *

 

The changes in Nino were noted by everyone who had known him beforehand. Suddenly, he was getting a lot of attention.

This amused Alya more than it annoyed her; while she wasn’t exactly thrilled with the way some young chippies batted their eyes at Nino as he passed, she took immense pleasure in his obliviousness to the way he affected others, content to hold her hand, and hers alone.

This changed, however, when a year later, Adrien and Marinette approached her with a confession:

“We…kind of have a crush on Nino,” Marinette mumbled one sunny day at lunch, hers and Adrien’s faces bright red at the admission. Alya observed them, idly sipping at her soda. Well…this had just gotten interesting.

“We?” She asked, hiding her smirk at the way Adrien’s eyes cut to the side, as if he was afraid of looking her in the eye.

“We didn’t mean for it to happen,” Marinette spoke for the both of them, her bluebell eyes anxious as she raised her hands, as if she was anticipating Alya lunging over the table at them. “Honestly, w-we thought it was just because we’re all really good friends, you know? But we were talking the other night, about Nino, and, well–”

“He’s hot,” Adrien finally spoke with a longing sigh. Alya tried not to laugh, she really did, but the pair of them looked so contrite that she couldn’t help the snort that escaped her, followed by a peal of laughter that drew disgruntled attention from the other patrons.

“Oh my god, you’re both so precious,” she teased, lifting her glasses to wipe tears from her eyes. “Don’t look so guilty–I’ve noticed for a while, the way you two look at him.”

Their faces grew impossibly redder, outclassing the roses on the table.

“Wha–” Marinette sputtered as Adrien stuttered, “But how–?”

“Oh please,” Alya snorted, sitting back with her arms folded across her chest. “Marinette, you turn red every time Nino so much as looks as you, and Adrien, I swear to god you strip him naked with your eyes every time you guys head out to the gym together.” She smirked. “You two are a lot of things–adorable, thirsty–but subtle is not one of them.”

Marinette seemed to be beyond speech at this point, but though Adrien appeared just as embarrassed as her, a frown creased his blonde brow as he looked at Alya.

“You’re…surprisingly okay with this,” he noted. Alya shrugged.

“Hey, it’s not like I disagree. He  _is_ hot.” She paused, tilting her head at her ridiculous friends. “And I feel like you two invited me here because you wanted to ask my permission to do something about it.”

Their increased blushes and sudden silence spoke volumes.

Again, Alya snorted.

“You know, if it was anyone else asking, I would flip my shit,” she made sure to let them know before she was shrugging again, leaning her elbows on the table as she folded her hands under her chin. “But I’ll admit it–I kind of want to see where this goes.” She raised her eyebrows. “That being said, you know my opinion on this is null and void if Nino doesn’t want this. He may be my boyfriend, but he’s still his own person, you know.”

“We know,” Adrien rushed to assure her as Marinette added, “We never would’ve dreamed of saying anything to Nino before we talked to you first, though. He loves you.”

“This is true,” Alya agreed smugly. “Well, in any case, I’ll let him know he has my permission after you talk to him, if this is something he actually wants to pursue.”

Marinette was watching Alya, scrutiny in her gaze.

“…You’re really okay with this, Alya?” She wanted to check. “Seriously? Because if there’s even the slightest doubt–”

“Like I said, I wanna see where this goes,” Alya interrupted her, giving another shrug. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to bed you or Adrien, if we’re being completely candid here. This way, I can live vicariously through Nino.”

“Uh,” Adrien stuttered, lifting his collar away from his neck with a half-glance at an equally flushed Marinette. “We should put a pin in that thought and definitely revisit that later…but one thing at a time.”

“Suit yourself,” said Alya, smirking at the pair of them. “In any case, Nino might enjoy the change of sex partners.” Her smirk evolved into a shameless grin. “I’ve been wearing that ass  _out_.”

“I really don’t think anyone can blame you,” Marinette sighed, Adrien nodding fervently beside her.

Alya laughed. As strange as this situation might sound to others, honestly, she was just relieved her friends had finally come forward and admitted to their lusting after her boyfriend; the sexual tension every time the four of them hung out had been starting to get to her.

* * *

 

A few days later, Alya sat calmly at her computer, her mind half-way on this article she was editing, and half-way focused on the recanting of Nino’s dinner with Adrien and Marinette. She tried not to laugh at the way he seemed to have a hard time articulating that their friends wanted to fuck him, but honestly, he seemed so surprised that she couldn’t help herself.

“Well you kind of brought this on yourself, baby,” Alya teased him, turning from her computer to grin at Nino. “No one told you to go to Morocco and come back looking like  _that._ ”

Nino glanced down at himself, rubbing the back of his head, embarrassed.

“I’m not that different,” he mumbled. Alya inspected him, sussing out the insecurity she could see in his eyes. Carefully saving her work, she got up to join Nino, sitting next to him on the bed and patting his hand.

“I talked with them,” she admitted, cringing at the wide-eyed look Nino threw at her. “They were so embarrassed to admit to wanting you, but honestly, I think it’s good that they did. It shows that they still value our friendship above everything.” She stroked Nino’s face now, and his eyes closed at the contact. “And it’s not like they’re treating you like a piece of meat, right? Neither of them threatened to end your friendship if you didn’t give them what they wanted, right?”

“No,” Nino answered, sighing a little as Alya’s hand found its way into his hair, massaging the back of his scalp.

“Good. Then what happens from here is up to you.” She leaned over, waiting until Nino opened his eyes again before she asked him, “so what do  _you_  want to do?”

“I…I don’t know,” Nino admitted, glancing away from her, a perplexed look crossing his face. “It’s so out of left-field…I’m still kind of reeling.”

“That’s fine,” Alya encouraged gently, kissing his cheek. “They probably told you this already, but you don’t have to rush into anything. Take your time and think about it. Whether or not it’s something you want to try, all you have to do is let them know your honest feelings.”

Nino glanced over at her, searching her face.

“You’re surprisingly okay with this,” he noted. Alya laughed, reminded of Adrien.

“Only because I noticed way before they said anything that they wanted you,” she admitted, smirking at the way Nino’s eyes rounded. “You were just too oblivious to notice.”

Nino shook his head, muttering something that sounded like “ridiculous” under his breath. Alya laughed and kissed him proper, meaning to be reassuring. But, as their kisses always inevitably did, things grew heated, and Alya found herself in Nino’s lap, easing him back onto the bed as she kissed her way to his earlobe, purring at the way he moaned when she teased it with her teeth.

“Again?” He huffed as she made her way down to his shirt, tugging it off him and tossing it unceremoniously to the floor. “Didn’t we do it three times before I left for dinner?”

“Can I help that I want you?” Alya teased him, lacing her fingers with his as she grinned down at him. “Especially when I know how much everyone else wants you? Besides, you can go one more round, can’t you?”

“That’s what you said last time,” he accused her with a dry look. “And the time before that.”

Alya’s grin gentled, and she kissed the underside of his jaw.

“I just can’t get enough of you, baby.” She sighed in a contented way, resting against him for a moment. “But if you’re not in the mood, I understand. You’ve had a big night, being solicited by our hot friends and all.”

“You think they’re hot?”

“You don’t?”

“Mm,” Nino hummed, and Alya glanced up to find his eyes far away, speculative. After a couple minutes of silence, he quietly admitted, “I’m…thinking about it.”

“You have my blessing if you do,” Alya teased him, kissing his jaw again. “I don’t mind as long as I stay your favorite.”

Nino glanced down at her, his eyes melting, a soft smile tugging at his lips before he was suddenly flipping her over, kissing the crook of her neck. Alya laughed, shivering under his suddenly demanding touch.

“I thought you weren’t in the mood?”

“Babe, let’s be real–I’m  _always_  in the mood when it comes to you. You’re too damn sexy.”

“Oh my, Mr. Lahiffe. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the knowledge that other hot people want to have sex with you has bolstered your ego.”

“Turn off your inner thesaurus and just kiss me, babe.”

* * *

 

After a few more discussions about what would happen if this actually went down, Nino’s curiosity won, and he agreed.

There were strict rules: first and foremost, Nino was not to be pressured into anything he wasn’t sure of. Second of all, he was to be wooed first with a minimum of three great dates (this rule was put in place by Alya, who demanded her man be treated with the utmost respect, Adrien and Marinette’s lust be damned). And thirdly, if he wished it, this would only be a one-time thing, and Marinette and Adrien were not to ask for a second time. It was very official–Alya drafted up four sets of contracts and had them officiated before going over it with them and making everyone sign each copy and distributing them among the group.

Marinette lost at rock paper scissors with Adrien, so it was decided that he would romance Nino first.

It was fun–while Nino knew these dates were a prelude, it still felt like he was just having a regular hang-out with Adrien. Sure, the dinner on the third night had a more romantic context than Nino was used to, but even that he didn’t mind; regardless of the reason, it was nice to be pampered this way.

After dinner, Adrien suggested they watch a movie over at his place. Innocent. Right.

Nino had to admit, he was a little nervous. This was uncharted territory. And while he couldn’t pretend he didn’t wonder how how something like this might go down with Adrien before the opportunity actually presented itself, the fantasy version of Nino was a lot bolder than real-life Nino.

So when Adrien casually rested his hand on Nino’s thigh during a steamy part of the movie, Nino admittedly tensed up.

Adrien noticed.

“…We don’t have to do anything, you know,” he quietly reminded Nino after he had paused the movie. Nino glanced over to find Adrien smiling shyly. “You’re my best friend, Nino. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Nino sighed, ducking his head in shame. “I know. And it’s not like I don’t want to, don’t get me wrong. I just…this is new, you know? Different. We’ve…never done anything like this before.”

“I know,” Adrien admitted, turning slowly to Nino. In the glow of the television, his eyes seemed to glitter. “We can go as slow as you need to. Okay?”

Nino swallowed, and then nodded.

“Okay.”

Adrien smiled, inching closer.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

His cologne was amazing. Nino closed his eyes and breathed deep, letting Adrien’s scent put him at ease.

“Yes.”

Adrien’s lips were soft and careful as they pressed against Nino’s, pliant, but still exploratory. Nino let him lead, twitching at the soft sighs that escaped Adrien as they kissed. Carefully, he let his hands wander, sliding around Adrien’s back, pulling him closer. Adrien obliged, and when his tongue carefully traced Nino’s bottom lip, requesting permission, Nino allowed it.

His head spun as they made out, these new sensations taking over his senses. He didn’t know Adrien could sound like that, little sounds escaping him as Nino caressed his back or nipped at his lip. He didn’t know Adrien could feel like this, warm and inviting against him, fingers flexing over his shoulders. Nino shifted, trying to get closer, and suddenly, something solid was poking into his thigh.

He didn’t know Adrien could get hard like this.

Nino felt himself respond immediately to Adrien’s blatant arousal, and his breath caught when he felt Adrien stroke him, a moan escaping him. He pulled back, finding Adrien’s hooded eyes watching him, his face flushed.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly, desire laced through his voice. Nino shuddered, his nod a little too eager.

Adrien’s fingers were quick, expertly navigating around Nino’s belt and the zipper of his jeans, as if he had mapped out this path in his head over a dozen times. Nino was poised to ask just how long Adrien had been wanting to get him like this before all thought fled from his mind, his nerves sparking with painful intensity as Adrien’s fingers made contact with his skin.

“Ah,  _fuck,_ ” Nino hissed in surprise, and Adrien chuckled, his strokes slow and careful.

“Big,” Adrien noted, and Nino flushed, embarrassed.

“I-it’s not a big–I mean, it’s, uh,” Nino mumbled, stumbling over his words as Adrien grew more confident, pulling him free of his boxers and stroking his cock firmly. He promptly stopped talking when Adrien kissed him.

“Nino,” Adrien mumbled against his lips, shifting down, his erection rubbing against Nino’s thigh. “Do you mind if I use my mouth?”

Nino nearly choked. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine his best friend would ask to give him a blow job, but now that they were here…

“If–if you want to,” Nino allowed, staring at the way Adrien’s eyes darkened with lust as he slid off his leg.

“You have no idea how much I want to,” Adrien purred, and Nino felt his erection twitch, pulsing with need. Adrien felt that and laughed. “I’m guessing you’re a fan?”

“Y-you said that so blatantly,” Nino muttered behind his hand, his breath quickening as Adrien sank to his knees in front of him, still stroking him. “How else was I supposed to react?”

Adrien grinned, suddenly looking a lot more mischievous than Nino was used to.

“I guess I’ll have to work hard to live up to your expectations, then.”

Before Nino could tell him that he wasn’t expecting anything, suddenly, he was in Adrien’s mouth. The shock of wet heat made him groan, the sound drawn-out by the way Adrien’s tongue circled his cock expertly, as if he had been advised on exactly how Nino liked his blow jobs. Either Alya had dished behind the scenes, or Adrien was that damn good at this, and Nino didn’t know which one spelled more trouble for him.

He tried to ask Adrien to go slow, but Adrien seemed to be on a mission–he hummed as his head bobbed up and down, and Nino threw his head back, moaning into the still air of the living room.

“A-Adrien,” he stuttered, reaching forward to grip Adrien’s hair, because he needed something to hold onto. Adrien moaned in response; he seemed to like it, his head bobbing faster, a hand in between his own legs to stroke his own erection. He glanced up at Nino, and the sight of his lust-filled eyes pushed Nino over the edge. On reflex, he pushed down on Adrien’s head as he suddenly came. Adrien made a choking noise, and Nino swore, quickly letting go.

“Ah…fuck, Adrien, I’m sorry,” he apologized as Adrien drew back, coughing. “It felt too good, and I forgot to be careful–”

“It’s okay,” Adrien wheezed, wiping his chin clean as he glanced up at Nino with a shifty grin. “It…was really hot…”

He lifted his free hand, covered in cum that was not Nino’s. Nino let out a shaky laugh, covering half his face with a hand.

“Damn, dude. Didn’t know you were such a masochist.”

Adrien winked.

“It’s our little secret.”

As it turned out, Adrien was more sadist than masochist–he didn’t let Nino tap out until he came three more times after that. He was as insatiable as Alya.

* * *

 

Marinette had not looked at him once since they had gotten back from the club. Honestly, it was kind of freaking Nino out.

“‘Nette?” He asked when he could no longer stand the silence. “If you’re having second thoughts–”

“No!” She protested, finally tearing her gaze from her lap to look at him, contrite. “It’s not that at all! It’s…I…” she blew out a sigh, looking frustrated as her bangs fell back into her face. With an impatient huff, she pushed them to the side. “I just realized…I don’t know how to do this.”

Nino blinked.

“You and Adrien never–?”

“Of course we have,” Marinette refuted his assumption, though her flushing cheeks offset her huffiness. “It’s just that…well, Adrien usually comes onto me whenever we have sex, so to do this on my own…well, it’s new.”

Oh. Nino thought back on the way Adrien had taken charge of him, and suddenly things made more sense.

“Well, you don’t have to make the first move,” Nino reasoned with a shrug. “You could’ve just said something.”

“But I  _am_  coming onto you,” Marinette pointed out with a frown, her legs shifting under her restlessly as she sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m the one who asked you here, so I should be the one to–”

“It really doesn’t have to be this complicated, ‘Nette,” Nino assured her with a slight grin, getting up from the chair he had been perched anxiously in for the past twenty minutes. “If you need me to lead, you can just ask.”

Marinette bit her lip, leaning back to look him in the eyes, looking inviting even if she didn’t mean to.

“Are you sure?” She wanted to check. Nino chuckled, kneeling down to her eye level.

“All you have to do is ask me,” he prompted her once again. Marinette pursed her lips; she appeared to have a silent battle with her pride before she sighed, relaxing.

“Then…please lead, Nino.”

That was all Nino needed to hear. With a quick, reassuring grin, he leaned in, pressing his lips to Marinette’s. Kissing Marinette was its own brand of pleasure–she tasted like strawberries, and as she sighed, her mouth opened for him, inviting him in. Nino moved carefully, making every movement slow and deliberate so Marinette could guess what he would be doing next, and could put a stop to it if she wanted to.

She didn’t stop him. She blushed when he stripped her down, but she didn’t stop him. She was soft and malleable, giving into his touches easily, happily. As Nino slid a finger inside her, he had to pause and marvel at how  _wet_  she was. Just how long had she been in this state?

“Nino,” Marinette whined, her hands dragging over her bed sheets. “Nino,  _please._ I want…I want you. Please, _please_ fuck me.”

Nino raised an eyebrow. Well, she certainly had no problems asking for what she wanted now.

He had to brace himself when he slid inside her; she felt so good that he was afraid he wouldn’t last another second. But she was arching against him, breathy moans escaping from her, pleading with him for more,  _more._  Nino couldn’t deny her, and so he persevered at a steady pace, matching Marinette’s moans with his own, biting his lip as her fingernails dug into his back, her legs wrapped around his waist. She was so sensitive, keening at the slightest touch; all it took was one good thrust from Nino for her to cry out his name as she convulsed, tightening around him so much that he came right after her, his breath ragged as he watched the look of bliss on her face calm into a satisfied smile.

“Oh my god,” she sighed, and Nino laughed, pulling out to lay down beside her, brushing dark hair from her freckled face.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he joked, and Marinette smiled, turning to kiss his nose.

“Thank you, Nino,” she said so fervently that Nino felt himself blush.

“Anytime,” he said without thinking. Marinette blinked her wide blue eyes at him.

“…Really?” She asked, her voice hushed, as if she was afraid the walls would hear and tattle. Nino considered her, thinking upon his great night with Adrien, and upon Alya’s smirk when he admitted to being curious about all this…

“…Yeah, really,” he decided, propping himself up on his elbow. “As a matter of fact…why don’t we make this more interesting?”

Marinette sat up too, her eyebrow raised quizzically.

“What did you have in mind?”

* * *

 

“So,” Alya began, idly twirling her wine glass as she smirked at her friends and her boyfriend. “Are we having dinner to toast to all the sexual tension between you three finally being resolved?”

Adrien, Marinette, and Nino exchanged glances.

“Actually,” Adrien began, smiling a little, “this dinner is for you, Alya.”

“Oh, well cheers to me, then,” Alya said, lifting her glass before she got the distinct impression that she was missing something. “…Wait, for what?”

“Well, the three of us talked,” Marinette chimed in, a pretty blush dusting her freckled cheeks. “And, if you’re willing–”

“We have a proposal for you,” Nino finished. Alya glanced at each of them in turn, squinting suspiciously.

“What? Are you guys about to draw up a sex schedule so we can all continue to share Nino?”

“No,” Marinette denied with a laugh. “More like we’re asking you to join us.”

Now Alya’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline.

“Are we forming a harem?”

“Well, something like that,” Adrien admitted with a grin. “But, like, with feelings. We’re taking the pin out.”

“Huh?”

“We want to be together,” Nino stated plainly, taking Adrien’s hand as Adrien took Marinette’s. “The four of us.”

Alya blinked. Wait. Were they asking…?

“…Are you two asking me to be your girlfriend?” She asked to clarify, feeling a slow grin cross her face as she looked at Marinette and Adrien. They returned her grin.

“If you’re willing,” Adrien confirmed as Marinette offered her free hand to Alya, her eyes sparkling. In her mind’s eye, Alya could see a beautiful two-story home where they all would live together, laughing together during the good times and consoling each other during the hard times, with group cuddle sessions and a large, king-sized bed and being surrounded by love, love, and more love, always and forever. The picture made her well up, so she hid it by laughing and taking both Marinette’s and Nino’s free hands.

“Then I accept! Damn, if I had known this would happen, I would’ve let you two sleep with Nino a lot sooner!”

She grinned at Nino, expecting him to be embarrassed, but he merely shrugged.

“Glad you feel that way.” His golden eyes were alight with mischief. “Because next week, it’s your turn.”


	3. The Last Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Miracusims fic that started it all.
> 
> Details what was going through Piper's mind the night before she and Louis were meant to go their separate ways. Mildly suggestive.

The last night.

Funny how it sounded so final.

Personally, Piper didn’t feel like it should be that big of a deal. It was just college. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t come home for the holidays. It wasn’t like she’d never see her family again, or her friends.

‘The last night’ didn’t mean ‘the end’…

She glanced over to her right, taking in the flash of white teeth as her best friend grinned at some joke his mother had just told about his wild child days, green eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughed raucously. Funny–they were both young adults now, but while Piper had to get reacquainted with herself with every year she grew older, it still felt like Louis hadn’t changed a bit.

Well, actually, that was nowhere near true–the boy she used to know had become a man. A man who had filled out quite nicely over the years…

‘ _Stop it,_ ’ Piper scolded herself with a sharp, mental tap. She had no business having those thoughts anymore. Yes, things had been…strange…between her and Louis ever since he and Luna had broken up, but still, that didn’t mean that anything was going to change between them now. It was the last night they would see each other for a while. She was just happy to be near him, in the limited time they had left.

“It’s getting late,” Mrs. Agreste said after dessert had been eaten and the conversations were winding down. “You kids should head off to bed–big moving day tomorrow and all.”

“Thanks for dinner, Mom,” Louis said; despite his usual uncouth behavior (like his stripping), he never failed to be courteous towards his parents. Mrs. Agreste smiled as a chorus of thanks erupted from the table, following Louis’ example.

“Of course,” she said warmly, rising to her feet. “It was a lot of work, though…I think I’ll have myself a nice bubble bath as a little reward. And since I made dinner all by myself, someone else can handle the dishes, right…?”

Her tone was pleasant enough, but the warning was clear, and Mr. Agreste and Bridgette jumped up at the same time with nervous laughter as they gathered up the dishes from the dinner table.

“You heard Marinette, time for bed,” Piper’s mother insisted, making waving motions at Piper and Louis. “You too, Dom–you have school in the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dom replied, getting to his feet and giving his sister a hug. “Night, Piper. Wake me before you leave, okay? You can’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“I will,” Piper promised, grinning at her little brother, who wasn’t so little anymore either. Piper didn’t think she’d ever get over how big and handsome her little squirt of a brother had grown.

“D’you want me to wake you before I leave tomorrow, Bri?” Louis called to his sister as she helped her father load the dishwasher. She looked over at him with her wide blue eyes.

“Louis, I’ll probably be awake before you,” she pointed out with a scoff. “If anything, I’ll wake you up when I move my stuff into your room tomorrow.”

“That’s cold, Bee,” Louis complained with a pout, and Piper openly snickered at him.

“Sucks to be you,” she commented, and Louis made a face at her as he followed her to the stairs.

“She’ll cry when I leave tomorrow,” he said confidently, and Piper laughed some more. Though she knew that Bridgette loved her brother with all her heart, Piper was fairly certain that she loved the thought of having an extra room all to herself more.

When they reached the second floor landing, Louis caught her arm.

“Wanna hang out in my room for a bit?” He asked, when Piper paused to give him a questioning look. “I know we both have to be up early, but it’s our last night together, so…”

“Sure,” Piper agreed, not needing much convincing. Why wouldn’t she want to hang out with her best friend one last time before they each went their separate ways to chase their futures?

Louis grinned, the gesture lighting up his whole face. God, he was cute. Piper hated that.

“Bring your violin,” he requested, letting his hand slide away from her arm to fold his hands behind his head. “We can have a jam session in our jammies. For old times’ sake.”

“You’re such a dork,” Piper laughed, and Louis rewarded her with a wink.

“You love me anyway,” he teased with a grin before he turned and headed to his bedroom. Piper paused a moment, staring after him. Oh, if he only knew how true that was…

But Piper was finished dwelling on the “what ifs”. She had spent far too much time pining over that oblivious boy who would never see her as anything more than a friend. It was time to move on, once and for all.

* * *

 

God, why was she so hyper-aware of how much skin she was showing? It wasn’t like she had dressed any differently; Louis had seen her in her pajamas plenty of times, as well as bathing suits that were a lot more revealing than this. So why was she so uncomfortable in her own skin tonight?

Maybe it was him–he was sitting so close to her that Piper could feel the body heat radiating off of him. And though he was wearing more clothes than he deemed appropriate in public, Piper could not be more aware of the fact that he was shirtless. Normally, she’d mock him by complaining about it in an attempt to shame him into a shirt, but tonight, it was all she could do to remind herself to behave. It didn’t matter how many abs she could count from this angle, he was her friend, and these thoughts were wildly inappropriate. God, why couldn’t she just act _normal_  around him anymore?!

Louis seemed completely oblivious to her preoccupation (of course). He was too busy fiddling with his stereo, constantly changing the channel no matter what song was playing, almost as if he was doing it to keep his hands busy. After a minute or two of this, Piper raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you looking for a specific song?” She asked, brushing her braids to the side. “Because your chances of hearing something you like are better if you just stick to one station for more than a second.”

Louis wrinkled his nose, his lips twisting to the side as he kept hitting the skip button on his stereo remote.

“I’m just trying to see if…ah,” he trailed off, grinning as saxophone suddenly blared through his speakers. He hastily adjusted the volume, and Piper snickered.

“Seriously?” She asked as the melody faded in lieu of George Michael’s voice. “This song was popular when our grandparents were our age. You telling me you like _this_?”

Louis shrugged his bare shoulders, leaning back on his hands as he glanced over at Piper, eyebrows arched.

“You got a problem with the classics?”

“I just didn’t know you were into 80s music,” Piper said, working to sound casual. In the back of her mind, however, there was nothing but question marks.

This…was considered a really romantic song, according to her parents. And while she was sure Louis didn’t mean anything by playing it now…it still sent a shiver down her spine. This didn’t mean anything…it couldn’t…Louis was just being Louis, after all…

“You cold?”

Warmth slid around Piper as Louis’ arm found its way around her. She swallowed, making herself look up at him. He was watching her, his expression friendly and open, his eyes warm as always. She almost suspected him of messing with her, sure that he knew what his touch was doing to her…but that familiar glint of mischief was absent from his eyes tonight. Piper didn’t know which was worse: him flustering her on purpose, or by accident.

“I’m fine,” she said after a moment, offering a small, reassuring smile before she looked away.

“Cool,” Louis replied. He didn’t move his arm. Piper didn’t know what to do about it, and so she just sat there and willed herself not to lose her head. It was fine…they were just hanging out, same as usual. It was fine…

“So,” said Louis, drawing Piper’s attention back to him as he tilted his head at her, looking curious. “You nervous?”

Piper stared at him. Oh god…could he read her mind?!

“About college,” Louis clarified when Piper didn’t say anything. She let out a breathless laugh.

“Oh, that. …A little,” she admitted, glancing away from him for a moment as she swept her braids back behind her shoulder. When she met his gaze again, she was smiling. “It’s a good kind of nervous, though. Starting a new chapter of my life, growing as a person…all that jazz.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “What about you?”

“Shit, I can’t  _wait_  to leave,” Louis enthused with a wicked grin. “I’ve gotten too infamous around here, so none of my pranks are as satisfying as they used to be. I’m ready to start terrorizing a whole new bunch of people.”

“Of course,” Piper laughed with a roll of her eyes. Honestly, she didn’t expect anything else from him.

“Yeah…” Louis’ smile faded, and something like wistfulness entered his eyes now. “I’m gonna miss my partner in crime, though.” He squeezed her shoulder for emphasis.

“Aw,” Piper cooed, giving Louis’ cheeks a squeeze. “I didn’t realize you were such a softie.”

Louis’ lips puckered in a pout, which made the face he was making even funnier.

“You act like you’re not gonna miss me, too,” he complained when Piper finally let go of his face. She rolled her eyes at the dramatic tone of his voice.

“Oh c’mon. You act like we’re never gonna see each other again.”

“Well, even when we do…it won’t be exactly the same anymore, right?” Louis’ blonde brow furrowed. “I mean…we won’t be living in the same place anymore. Don’t you think it’ll be…y’know…weird? I mean, we’ve been together our whole lives…but now we’re heading to different colleges, in different towns…and the thought of not being able to see you downstairs in the kitchen when I wake up…not hanging out with you in school…not coming up with crazy schemes on the weekends…”

Louis trailed off, his eyes far away, on a grim future that hurt Piper to think about. Yes, she had thought about all this too, but she had already forced herself to make peace with it. The minute she and Louis had been accepted to separate colleges, Piper knew that things would change. And she wasn’t sure if it was because Louis was thinking about all this just now, or because they never really made time to discuss it, but the thought of going anywhere without him…

It made Piper want to cry.

And so she resolved to lighten the mood immediately.

“You’re so serious,” she teased him with a nudge to his ribs. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

Louis blinked, his expression unreadable for a moment as he stared down at her. A second later, however, his face split into that mischievous grin Piper was so fond of.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologized formally, which put her on guard, “is this better?”

Before she could move to defend herself, Louis lunged, attacking her abdomen with his wiggling fingers as he tickled her. Piper let out a shriek of laughter that was hastily muffled as she swatted at him.

“Ahahahaha! Louis, s-stop! Cut it out, I’m gonna pee! Hahahahaha!”

“Say uncle!” Louis demanded, refusing to halt his onslaught of tickling. The only way Piper could save herself was to get away from him; she rolled off the bed, bent over as she regained her breath, rubbing tears of mirth from her face.

“Ha ha…you jackass…” she huffed at him, massaging her sore sides, unable to dismiss the grin from her face just yet. Louis merely grinned at her from where he sat on the bed, not looking the least bit sorry. She really was going to miss him.

“You love me,” Louis insisted again, getting to his feet as he smirked at her. Piper stuck her tongue out at him as he approached, watching him carefully for any signs of further wandering hands.

“Yeah, yeah,” she huffed, crossing her arms in defense as she grinned up at him. “Hurry up and leave already.”

The reminder made Louis sober again. As he stared down at her, Piper watched as something crossed his face, too fast for her to catch it. But something about the way he held his mouth seemed uncertain…what was he thinking?

“…I really am going to miss you, Pipes,” he said quietly. Piper felt her heart throb painfully, but for his sake, she ignored it, offering him another smile.

“I’ll miss you, too,” she answered. Louis’ head bobbed, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Good.” His voice was so quiet now that Piper had to lean in to catch the words. “That’s good…”

And then…it happened.

One minute, they were just staring at each other.

The next minute, Louis had suddenly leaned in–

And he was kissing her.

…

Louis was KISSING her!!!

Piper didn’t know what to do. This had come completely out of nowhere–what the hell was she supposed to do?!

Freezing up was probably the wrong answer, but something in her brain had short-circuited, and she was no longer able to think properly. All she could focus on was the feel of Louis’ lips, which were softer than she had expected, pressed firmly against hers before he drew back. Piper stared, wide-eyed, as Louis opened his eyes. His face was flushed, and his eyes searched her face, and she couldn’t decide if he was trying to commit her features to memory, or if he was looking for something…something he was hoping to find, something that had been there all along…

Piper, who had been trying to bully her brain back into working order, promptly gave up at the look on his face, that quiet longing in his eyes. She didn’t know how long it had been there, had no idea when he might have started feeling for her the way she had been trying not to feel about him for way too long–

His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but Piper didn’t give him the chance. She surged forward, mashing her lips into his, her arms encircling him, pressing him to her as she kissed him, taking what she had wanted for so long without any regret, because he started it. Here she was, on the eve of their departure, ready to start her new life, and then, he pulls this shit. Was she supposed to just let him get away with it, after she had worked so hard to suppress how much she wanted him? 

If he wanted to kiss her, then by god, he was going to  _kiss_  her, damn it!

Louis seemed to have no complaints; he held her tightly to him, a low sound uttered from the back of his throat as his mouth moved against hers, certainly eager enough. Piper’s head was spinning, but she didn’t care–who needed to breathe when she was finally kissing the man of her dreams?

Suddenly, it wasn’t only her head that was spinning–her whole body was spinning, and she jumped, certain she was about to fall–

Louis’ arms were still around her, though–he had her. And once Piper realized what was happening, she broke the kiss to let out a laugh of disbelief–the little shit was actually  _dipping_  her! God, could he get any more cheesy?

“Piper,” Louis breathed against her neck, and Piper felt her breath catch at the way her name sounded when spoken like this, wrapped in his arms, lips swollen from kissing, the heat between them too much, and yet, somehow, not enough.

Piper pulled back to look at him. He was breathing heavy, his face completely red, green eyes hooded as he gazed down at her. Piper stifled a moan. He looked so sexy. Why did he have to do this to her tonight, when they had to leave each other in the morning? They could’ve had weeks, months, years together, if only he had made a move like this sooner…so why now?

Piper almost asked…but the thought of wasting a single moment like this on words seemed pointless. It was their last night together, and she wanted to make it count.

Straightening up from his dip (what a dork), Piper stepped back, keeping his gaze as she tugged on his hand, beckoning him to follow. He did, too quickly, and they stumbled, falling onto the bed. Louis swore, and Piper laughed, the sound quickly swallowed by Louis’ lips as he kissed her deeply. Piper responded enthusiastically and let herself get swallowed up in the moment, and they spent the night on fire, the heat all-consuming and undeniable, bare, sweat-slicked skin pressed against each other, gasps of breath and muttered words of devotion, the world splintering and shattering into pieces that created new stars in the sky.

It was a dream. It had to be.

There was no way Piper’s innermost desires had manifested into reality…no way…

Piper opened her eyes. Louis was sleeping next to her, his blonde hair a mess, his mouth open, drool soaking his pillow. As Piper stared at him, slowly coming to terms with what happened the night before, she pressed her lips together, tears springing to her eyes.

How she wished it had been a dream. As much as she had wanted him the night before, knowing what it was like to have him, and now having to leave him…it was unbearable.

‘The last night’ didn’t mean ‘the end’.

But it did mean the end of whatever she and Louis had been, and what they might have been. Because now, nothing between them would ever be the same again.


	4. Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Louper fic, Louis-centric. Details his struggles after losing his best friend and the love of his life (Piper) all at the same time.
> 
> Lyrics belong to George Michael's "Careless Whisper".

They say that time stands still for no man.

From where Louis was sitting, however, he was inclined to disagree.

Sure, the time on his clock changed as he stared at it, and the amount of light in his room was altered depending on whether it was day or night…but for Louis, nothing changed. Absolutely nothing.

Though he knew it was pointless, he couldn’t stop himself from checking his phone, every hour of every single day. After his explosive fight with Luna, he had tried, tried so hard, to explain to Piper, to tell her that he didn’t know, that he had no idea. He tried to tell her how much he felt for her, how she was so much more than a one-night stand, and so much more than his best friend now, how he would do anything, anything, to have her talk to him again…

Nothing changed.

His messages went unanswered. Unread. It was as if he might as well not have sent them at all.

The door opened. Louis glanced up, blinking in the sudden light that came in, accompanying…ugh. His roommate. More like _roomnemesis._

Lionel’s lip curled the moment he caught sight of Louis sitting on his bed.

“You’re still here? Do you even have a life anymore?”

“I go out with your mom on occasion,” Louis snarked, but his heart wasn’t really in it. Lionel seemed to notice, for his expression fell flat.

“That’s seriously all you’ve got?”

“Shut up.”

Lionel’s nose wrinkled as he crossed the room, standing at the foot of Louis’ bed.

“God, you smell. Would it kill you to shower? Or shave? Or get a haircut?”

Louis smoothed his hands self-consciously over his hair. He knew he should probably get it cut soon, but he hadn’t been feeling up to a visit to the barber. Besides, his mom said it looked good on him, that he looked like a younger version of his father…

…Okay, maybe he could use a haircut. And he would get one. Eventually…

When he didn’t respond, Lionel seemed to grow bored of him; he turned his back, heading to his computer desk…but as he did so, he said,

“Just…get out, man. Leave the room every once in a while. The guys’ve been talking about putting you on suicide watch. If you don’t show your face occasionally, they’ll really do it.”

Louis sighed, and made himself stand up. Well, there was no point in sticking around if Lionel was going to be here, antagonizing him. And a shower might not be such a bad thing…

As he slowly grabbed his towel and made his way to the common room, he heard Lionel sigh behind him.

“Thank god; it’s like living with a skunk.”

“Fuck you, man.”

Somehow, he always found himself here.

It wasn’t like he ever planned to end up here–he would get so lost in his own mind, moving on auto-pilot, and suddenly…he’d be here. On the street right outside Piper’s apartment.

It was madness. Clearly, she wanted nothing more to do with him…so why did he still try? Why did he insist on punishing himself like this?

The light in her room was on, glowing in the dim of the evening. Her curtains billowed–the window was open.

As it had before, the desire to call out to her struck Louis. She wouldn’t answer his calls or his texts–she probably had his number blocked. And every time he tried to see her, she would refuse to come out of her room, and Luna would kick him out of the apartment. So what else could he do?

He opened his mouth, ready to shout to her–

What?

What could he possibly say that he hadn’t already called through her locked door? What would make her finally speak to him? What would finally make her see how much he missed her, how much he…

How much he loved her…?

Slowly, softly at first, but growing louder the longer he stood there, a familiar melody came to Louis…the song that played that night, when they had still just been friends, before he decided that maybe it wasn’t enough anymore…their first and last night together…

It would be more effective if he had a boombox of some sort, or if he could get the speakers on his phone to be louder…but neither was an option…so…

“I’m never gonna dance again,” Louis began to sing, hesitantly at first as he scrambled to recall they lyrics, “guilty feet have got no rhythm. Though it’s easy to pretend, I know you’re not a fool…”

The curtain twitched. A silhouette appeared, and though Louis worried for a second that it was Luna–he had almost forgotten that she and Piper shared a room–there was something familiar about the stance of that silhouette, enough to make him hopeful…

“I should’ve known better than to cheat a friend,” he went on, singing from his heart now, which was pounding in his chest, as if it would burst free from the emotion flooding him, desperation, loneliness, love, hope… “And waste this chance that I’ve been given. So I’m never gonna dance again, the way I danced with you…”

A hand slid in between the curtains, then an arm, with a small fox head tattooed upon it–Louis’ heart leapt–

The hand gripped the window and slammed it shut, throwing the latch at the top for good measure before it disappeared behind the curtain again.

Louis’ voice died, the slam reverberating through him, slamming his abused heart back into his rib cage, shattering upon impact. He stared up at the firmly shut window, choking on the familiar lump that had risen in his throat. Another rejection. Another sign that she wanted nothing more to do with him. Absolutely nothing.

Louis felt himself shaking. He drew in a shaky breath, but it didn’t help–tears still stung his eyes, and he still ached, knowing that what he wanted was so close to him…but he could never reach her again now. She was determined to be so tantalizingly near, but forever beyond his grasp.

Louis’ shoulders dropped, his head bowed. He slowly turned, and trudged his way back to the train station, wiping irritably at the tears that trailed down his face.

They say that time stands still for no man. Louis now knew that that was bullshit, because time had left him behind, stuck in the past, in what could have been, what almost was.

Time had seemed to forgotten him, but Piper…Piper seemed to be Time’s favorite. Because it looked like she had moved on with her life.

Without him.


	5. The Baker's Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cute little fic centered around Tom and Sabine, before they were the best parents ever and just getting to know each other.

He was so tall.

           That was always Sabine’s first thought whenever Tom Dupain crossed into her line of vision. He stood a head taller than most of the boys in school, sticking out like a thumb that had unwittingly strayed into the path of a falling hammer. Naturally, anyone who saw him would assume he was an athlete of some type, with that height and his strong arms and broad shoulders…so anyone who didn’t know him was always shocked to find that he was a baker.

           Well, a baker’s son, to be more accurate. But he helped knead the dough, so the point still stood.

           Although Sabine was aware of him, she had never had the occasion to speak to Tom Dupain—though he was friendly to everyone, they simply ran in different circles. The day she became officially acquainted with Tom was the day her heart had been broken.

           In her hands, she clutched a ruined qi pao, one of the nicer ones her mother had let her wear to school, since it was her birthday. She had been reluctant to take it off, but she had gym that day, and therefore had no other choice. But when she came back to change, it was to find that the beautiful qi pao had been ripped and stomped on, courtesy of the self-appointed mean girl in school and her cronies. Sabine could do nothing but pick up the pieces as they all laughed around her and quietly leave the locker room, not saying one word. Now, she sat on a bench a block away from her home, tears gathering in her eyes as she stared down at the no longer beautiful piece of heritage that her mother had carefully saved up to buy. What would she even say to her? How could Sabine explain what had happened without bursting into tears? How could she ever repay her mother for letting something so beautiful be destroyed?

           “Um! Excuse me, miss?” Said a tiny voice suddenly, “can you help me?”

           Sabine turned, startled to find what looked like…a rabbit-shaped bun?

           “I’m lost,” the rabbit bun said, tilting its little head in what appeared to be concern. “I’m meant to join all my other friends in someone’s belly somewhere, but we got separated! And brrr, it’s cold!” The rabbit bun shivered. “Do you think—if it’s all right—I could make your belly my new home?”

           Sabine stared at the bunny bun. After a moment of silence, a head popped up from the other side of the bench, and Sabine was surprised to find none other than Tom Dupain, looking sheepish.

           “Er…should I take that as a no?” He asked in his normal tone of voice. Sabine stared at him some more, unsure of what to say. What was he doing here?

           Tom stretched up to his full height, rubbing the back of his head as red colored his cheeks.

           “Erm, sorry,” he apologized, cringing, “I don’t mean to bother you. It’s just, uh…I saw you sitting out here, and you looked real upset. I was just…trying to cheer you up.”

           He let out an awkward laugh, his sheepish grin widening.

           “Guess it was kind of stupid to try and cheer you up with a talking bun, huh? After all, you’re not five—”

           “Oh, no,” Sabine said, finally finding her voice as she dabbed at her eyes, getting rid of the excess moisture before she managed a smile. “It was cute. I’m just…not in a very good mood is all.”

           Tom appeared to have nothing to say to that. Instead, he sat down on the other side of the bench, his brow furrowed as he tugged a little at the bun in his hands. Sabine watched him, taking in his large forearms, well-muscled from all the dough-kneading. And yet, his hands remained so kind, if he could make something as delicate as a bunny bun. She felt the corners of her mouth tug into another smile.

           “…Do you,” Tom began slowly, glancing at her from his peripheral vision, “want to talk about it…?”

           That made the smile leave Sabine’s face, and she glanced down at the ruined qi pao in her lap.

           “No, not really,” she muttered, glum once again. She sighed heavily, and then, despite her words, talked anyway. “My mother paid a lot of money for this qi pao. And here it is, beyond repair. I don’t know what I’m going to tell her.”

           Silence fell between them once again. Sabine glanced over, wondering once again what Tom was doing here. When she glanced behind her, she realized with some surprise that she was right in front of the bakery his father owned. Ah…had he seen her sitting out here, crying all by herself…and come out to comfort her…?

           “…So you need to buy a new one?”

           Sabine snapped back to attention; it took her a moment to realize what Tom was talking about.

           “Well, I would if I could,” Sabine fretted, biting her lip as she delicately touched the ruined silk underneath her hands, “but I don’t have the money. I’d have to get a job…”

           But who would hire her? She didn’t really have any talents, and she hadn’t found her calling in life yet. Sure, she supposed that meant that she could do absolutely anything with her life, but that was a little daunting as well. If she could do anything, didn’t that mean she was also easily replaced…?

           “…Y’know,” Tom began again, still tugging at the bunny bun in between his hands as he glanced over at her again, looking shy for a reason Sabine didn’t understand, “my pa keeps saying that he needs an extra pair of hands around the shop. Y’know, to sweep and stuff. It’s not very exciting…but it’s work.”

           It took a second for Sabine to realize just what he was offering. Her eyes widened when the message sunk in.

           “Really? Oh, but you don’t have to—”

           “It’s fine,” Tom assured her, smiling when she bit her lip, unsure. “He’s the kind of guy who likes to help people out when they’re in need.”

           …Huh. Sabine wondered if that trait was hereditary. Because as far as she knew, Tom’s father wasn’t the one sitting out here with her, offering her a job when she desperately needed it…

           “C’mon, I’ll introduce you,” Tom said when Sabine didn’t disagree right away; he stood up, and she was struck once again by how tall he was. It was almost intimidating to get to her own feet and stand beside him, but he just smiled kindly down at her, waving her forward as he crossed the street to head back to his bakery/home. At the door, however, a thought seemed to occur to him—he turned and finally handed the bunny bun to Sabine.

           “Here, for you.” When Sabine gave him a questioning look, Tom smiled warmly. “Happy birthday.”

           Sabine stared at him. She…didn’t remember mentioning to him that it was her birthday…

           With that same smile, Tom opened the door to the bakery, ducking under the bell that chimed above the door, holding it open for her. After one more moment of stunned silence, Sabine followed him inside, realizing that her face was warmer than usual.

           She blamed it on the warmth of the bakery.


	6. Partners Under Covers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Alyadrien fic that explores the shadow society of seemingly upstanding citizens. Mildly suggestive.

When prompted, the neighbors of one Adrien Agreste would have a lot to say about him, all good things:

“ _M._  Agreste? Oh, he’s so kind, I just love him.”

“Adrien? Yes, he’s such a joy to have in the neighborhood! Always volunteers at the neighborhood barbecues, and he never has a bad thing to say about anyone!”

“Oh yes, Adrien Agreste. Just between you and me, if I didn’t have a partner, I’d certainly like a shot at him…hell, I think Jean would probably agree!”

Former part-time model Adrien Agreste made his living by teaching piano lessons for kids, teens, adults—basically anyone who wanted to learn—at the local rec center, where all the townsfolk gathered to learn a variety of skills, be it the piano, cooking, dancing, or even quilting. And he was never without business—when he wasn’t teaching at the rec center, people were practically lining up for private lessons outside his two-story home, which was grander than a few of the houses, but modest enough, considering his gigantic inheritance when his father passed. He was always ready with a helping hand and a smile, which would make him an easy target when it came to shady individuals, but he was just so pure that anyone who tried to scam him seemed to end up giving up with a thousand apologies, which he always accepted. Adrien Agreste was simply too pure for anyone to mean him harm.

That…and his lawyer was not someone to be trifled with.

“Oh, Adrien, hello!” Called  _Mme._  Dumont as she spotted Adrien exiting his house; she hurried to meet him at his gate, and Adrien stumbled to an abrupt stop to avoid running into her, which meant his briefcase went flying, its contents spilling out.

“Oops,” Adrien chuckled, stooping down to hurriedly gather up his fallen possessions. “Hello,  _Mme._  Dumont. How’s Noah doing?”

“Oh, his fever has dropped significantly, thank goodness. By the way, thank you so much for that soup recipe!”  _Mme._  Dumont gushed, leaning over to help Adrien. “It was just as you said—just a bowl-ful, and his cough cleared right up! You’re amazing!”

“I actually got the recipe from the guy who teaches cooking classes at the rec center, but I’m happy I was able to help…ah,” Adrien cut himself off as his neighbor’s hand closed around his last item before he did. He inwardly sighed as  _Mme._  Dumont held the lighter up to her face, shock crossing her expression.

“Adrien! I didn’t know you smoked!” She cried predictably, and Adrien had to work not to roll his eyes. Of course, of course—picture-perfect Adrien Agreste couldn’t have such a filthy habit as smoking. For shame!

“I don’t,” he admitted, gently plucking the lighter from his neighbor’s hand and stuffing it into his pocket as he straightened up. “It’s just a memento, really. It was my father’s.”

Ah-ha—as soon as he played the ‘orphan’ card, it was suddenly all tragic expressions and sympathetic pats. Worked every time.

“Where are you off to today?”  _Mme._  Dumont inquired as Adrien unlocked his car with the press of a button, following him as he tossed his briefcase into the passenger seat. “You don’t normally leave your home around this time of day…”

 _Mme._  Dumont was inconveniently nosy. However, she also happened to sleep early, so Adrien didn’t mind it as much during the day, so long as he remained unobserved during the night…

“I have to see my lawyer today,” Adrien informed her, privately amused at the scandalized look on his neighbor’s face.

“Is that no good cousin of yours still giving you trouble over your father’s estate? Why, if I were still practicing, I’d have a good mind to—”

“I appreciate your concern,  _Mme._  Dumont, truly, I do,” Adrien assured her with a pat to her shoulder, “but I really should go. If I’m late, my attorney will have my head.”

“Oh, of course! You drive safe now, dear! If you need a pick-me-up of some hot chocolate and cookies, you know where to find me!”

“Of course,  _Mme._  Dumont,” Adrien replied courteously, instead of reminding her that he was twenty-five years old, not one of her young children. He knew she meant well, really, but sometimes the doting from her—from everyone—got to be too much.

As he got into and started his car, Adrien let himself breathe. At least he had an excuse to meet the one person who never took any of his shit today. Honestly, bless his cousin for being so stubborn—whether he knew it or not, Adrien really owed him for contesting his father’s will and tying them up in litigations that would take months to solve, if he insisted upon being so adamant. Really, Adrien wasn’t about to complain—even if the proceedings could be considered tedious at best, he did have one hell of a lawyer.

* * *

 

“You’re late.”

“Nice to see you too, Alya,” Adrien replied, raising an eyebrow as he entered the boardroom, ruffling his hair in that casual way that didn’t fool Alya for a second. “Did I miss anything important?”

Alya adjusted her glasses, eyeing him shrewdly.

“Of course not—we can’t very well accomplish anything without you here, now can we?”

“Please note,” said the unpleasant woman that Felix Agreste had hired to be his lawyer—the leggy blonde with the big mouth and a tongue as sharp as her nails, “that both my client and myself are present on time.”

“Punctuality won’t make up for a shoddy defense, sweetheart,” Alya shot back, examining her nails in a bored fashion as Adrien took his seat beside her. The opposing lawyer—Bourgeois, was it?—made a disgusted noise, muttering under her breath as Adrien’s cousin sat still, gazing dispassionately at the pair of them. Really, Alya was convinced the man was a robot—they had already met several times to go over every fine point in this goddamn will, but he still had yet to make any sort of facial expression that resembled a human’s. More and more, Alya began to wonder if he was even really invested in trying to weasel Adrien’s inheritance out from under him…or if this was just an elaborate ruse of some sort.

Alya glanced over at her client; he caught her eye, a corner of his mouth lifting up, a familiar glint in his gaze.

Oh, right—the only people that were doing the japing was them.

“Well,” Alya began, flipping her notepad open to a heavily graffitied page, most of it concerning the case before them…but a few of the written comments were slights against the other lawyer and Adrien’s cousin when Alya got bored of arguing the same point over and over again without getting anywhere. “Shall we start from the top?”

* * *

 

Despite how utterly pointless these meetings were, Adrien had to admit, he loved watching Alya work. There was something about watching a woman in slacks, a vest, and a button-up shirt argue fiercely but concisely, fire simmering in the hazel eyes behind her glasses as she shut down every point Mlle. Bourgeois tried to make with cold facts that she must have memorized at this point, for she barely glanced at her notepad the whole time. Not that this was surprising—not only was Alya excellent at her job, but the argument was so redundant at this point that Adrien himself could probably recite his father’s entire will from memory, including the finer details, like what kind of suit his father had wanted to be buried in (an Armani double-breasted charcoal black suit, with a red ascot and pocket handkerchief to match).

“Look, you can try and press your point until you’re blue in the face, but the fact still remains that Felix Agreste is not entitled to a single euro more than what Gabriel Agreste had already bequeathed to him and his family,” Alya stated, getting up from her chair now, her palms flat against the table as she scowled darkly at Mlle. Bourgeois, who looked ready to tear Alya’s eyes out…hmm, maybe that was why her nails were so sharp.

“And it is still our stance that, since M. Agreste’s death was so sudden, that there could be foul play to consider!” Mlle. Bourgeois insisted, punching the table with a surprising amount of force. Adrien glanced over, watching Alya roll her eyes.

“Oh please, not this again,” she huffed, falling back into her chair and crossing her arms. “The police launched a full investigation—the man died of a heart attack. Besides, everything was already in Adrien’s name when his father passed—if you’re honestly going to push the ‘foul play’ angle, then that makes your client just as suspicious, if not more so.”

“How dare you!”

“Hey, I’m just using your own logic against you. Don’t like it? Find another offense.” The ‘I dare you’ was implied in Alya’s tone, and Adrien absolutely loved it.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and the bailiff poked his head into the meeting room.

“Time’s up,” he chimed, and Adrien glanced at his watch in some surprise. Wow…amazing how two hours flew by, just like that. “Has a settlement been reached?”

Mlle. Bourgeois growled under her breath, swiping her belongings off the table and cramming them into her designer briefcase. Adrien watched Alya throw the bailiff a smirk.

“That answer your question, Claude?”

The bailiff shook his head, stepping into the room.

“Well…regardless, you’ll have to break for today,” Claude insisted. Mlle. Bourgeois gave another growl of discontent, but Alya merely shrugged, jerking her head for Adrien to follow her.

“Same time next month?” He joked, shooting a grin at the blondes across the table from him as he stood up. Neither of them looked amused, but it didn’t much matter to Adrien, who let the door fall shut behind him with a click.

He followed Alya outside the law office, to the alley. There, Alya fished out a cigarette pack from an inner pocket of her vest, sticking one between her lips while holding out her free hand. Obligingly, Adrien drew out his lighter and handed it over.

“You know smoking’s bad for you,” he said, smirking as Alya lit her cigarette and exhaled smoke, rolling her eyes at him at the same time.

“I started smoking because of you and your bullshit family drama,” she accused, dropping her professional manner as she pointed the cigarette at him before taking another drag. “And anyway, what the fuck? Every time I see your goddamn cousin, he looks more and more like he just doesn’t give a shit. If he doesn’t care about the money, then what the fuck is he wasting all our time for?”

“You got me,” Adrien replied with a shrug, unable to help the way he watched Alya’s lips curve around the cigarette as she smoked. “At this point, his lawyer cares more than we do.”

“Oh, she doesn’t care, either” Alya contradicted him with a slight shake of her head. “She just likes to argue with me. It’s the only way she knows how to relieve her sexual tension with me.”

Adrien slowly raised an eyebrow.

“Is there something I should know about?” He drawled, resting his forearm against the wall above Alya’s head, leaning over her as she glanced up at him, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Are you  _literally_ sleeping with the enemy?”

She lowered her glasses enough so her eyes were without a barricade as she shot him a deadpan look.

“Oh please. I’m a fuckin’ professional, I’ll have you know.” She paused to take another drag, her expression turning thoughtful. “…I wouldn’t kick her out of bed, though…”

“Oh?”

Alya shrugged casually, exhaling smoke away from Adrien as she pushed herself off the wall.

“Guess I just have a thing for blondes.”

Adrien felt himself warm at this, sternly ordering himself to keep the stupid grin he could feel forming off his face as Alya turned her back to him, snuffing out her cigarette with the heel of her dress shoe. She turned to him, folding her arms.

“You free tonight?”

“Lonely?” Adrien teased, snickering as Alya’s head titled to the side.

“Focus,” she insisted, glancing around surreptitiously as she lowered her voice. “We might have a potential job tonight.”

Okay, now Adrien’s interest was piqued.

“I’m listening…”

“Not here,” Alya said, quirking her eyebrows at him, as if to ask if he was mentally sane. “Later.”

Before Adrien could press for more details, Alya was moving past him. A tremor went through him at the briefest touch of her hand on his waist before she was behind him now, shoes snapping smartly against the concrete as she made her way back to the front of the building, her smoke break apparently over. Adrien watched her go, the flash of red that was her ponytail disappearing too soon for his liking, yet he knew it was necessary. It was important to keep up appearances, after all…

Turning back around, Adrien slipped his hand into his pocket, where he felt his lighter drop when Alya touched him. Along with his lighter was a folded slip of paper, curt words in Alya’s handwriting written across it. Adrien took in the message quickly, smirking at the reminder to burn the scrap of paper when he was done reading. He snorted and clicked his lighter to life, setting the scrap ablaze, watching it burn in between his thumb and forefinger for as long as he dared to before letting it go, leaving the ashes to scatter in the breeze.

As if he had to be reminded of how to do his actual job.

* * *

 

“You’re late.”

“Hmm…déjà vu,” the agent known as Chat Noir purred as he slunk up behind his partner where she was lying on the roof, shamelessly admiring the way that black spy suit clung to her curves. “I’m beginning to think that maybe you just set your watch five minutes too early for everything.”

Vixen only paused in her watch to shoot him a dry look over her shoulder, eyes framed by the black domino mask she wore instead of her usual glasses, before she refocused on her task, her binoculars aimed at the CACEIS bank across the street.

“Just watch my back, Chat. I can still trust you to do that much, yeah?”

“Of course,” said Chat, adjusting his own mask as he continued to ogle. “I’ve been watching your back since I got here.”

Vixen didn’t seem to catch his meaning for a minute; once she did, her head tilted to the side, and she turned to scowl at him…or she tried, in any case. Her smirk kind of ruined it.

“Would you focus? We actually have an objective tonight.” She turned back around to resume her watch. “And though I know my ass is phenomenal, it ain’t the objective.”

“Says you.”

Vixen scoffed.

“If you don’t focus, Tiger, you’ll only get to look tonight,” she warned him, the threat effective enough to get Chat concentrating on the goal at hand.

“Right…so our target is CACEIS tonight?”

“Yep,” Vixen answered, and Chat watched as she changed the focus on her night vision binoculars. “Apparently, they recently gained a very wealthy patron, who just opened an account worth no less than five-hundred and twenty-thousand euros”

Chat let out a low whistle.

“Damn…and we’re stealing from this patron because…?”

“Because he’s an asshole who embezzled all that money from a charity and quickly moved it before it could be traced back to him. I think we should do our damnedest to give it back,” Vixen informed him, tensing after a second. “Ah-ha.”

“Did Monarch just give you the signal?”

“Yep—cameras are down. We have about five minutes to get in, make the transfer, and get out without anyone noticing.” Vixen got up, tucking her binoculars back into the pouch at her side, turning to grin at Chat. “You ready to fly?”

Chat Noir let out a snort as Vixen dug something out from the small duffel bag hanging at her side.

“Remind me again why we’re the ones doing the B&E this time?”

“Because Ladybug and Paon were the ones that gathered intel this time around,” Vixen reminded him, yanking something familiar out of her duffel bag and turning to take careful aim at the building. “While they’re good with snatching physical things, my particular skilled touch with computers is necessary tonight.”

“Believe me, I know how skilled your touch is,” Chat remarked, smirking as Vixen gave an obligatory eye roll. “I’m just saying it’s strange, since they usually do the flying…”

Vixen ignored him, closing one eye as she breathed slowly…

She took the shot. The grappling hook flew through the air, clamping onto the top of the building.

“Come on,” she beckoned him, securing the other end of the rope to the antenna next to them before she stepped onto the ledge of the roof, clipping her harness to the rope to zip-line across the street. Chat sighed as he approached.

“You know this part makes me nervous…”

Vixen gazed up at him, looking amused for some mysterious reason.

“Wha—” Chat began to ask, intrigued by the mischief in her gaze…but he soon got his answer when Vixen yanked him forward by his collar, the tip of her tongue tracing up his neck before she gave his ear a light nip. Promptly, Chat forgot about anything that wasn’t the tingling of his earlobe, and the blood that was rapidly rushing south…

Vixen snapped her fingers in front of his face, her smile all fox as she tugged him closer, wrapping his arms around her.

“Just focus on that for a few seconds while we fly,” she teased him, patting his thigh. “Come on, climb up.”

Chat obeyed automatically, and for the next few seconds, he amused himself with memories of the last time he and Vixen had had the privilege of being alone…hands dragging across skin, lips pressing against each other, tongues tangling, hips thrusting…god, it had been too long…

“Chat? You can let go now.”

Chat Noir blinked; he hadn’t realized they were already on the roof of the bank until just then. Reluctantly, he made himself climb down from Vixen’s back, though he still stood very close to her as she unhooked herself from the rope above them. She turned slightly, pressing a hand to his chest to make him step back a step.

“Down, boy,” she urged him, though amusement still glinted in her gaze. “We still have a job to do, remember?”

Chat let himself pout.

“You started it,” he pointed out, a frustrated growl trailing the end of his sentence. Vixen gave him an apologetic smile before she stepped away.

“I’ll make it up to you later, Tiger.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

Vixen put a finger to her lips and waved him forward. They stealthily made their way across the roof, to the skylight glittering in the starlight, in the center of the roof. Chat grinned, tugging his glass cutting glove over his normal work glove…which was essentially a clawed glove with a strong suction cup sewn into the palm, used for breaking and entering. A simple glass cutter would’ve done the job just as well…but aesthetic.

Chat Noir cut a hole into the glass big enough for him and Vixen to wiggle through, using the suction section of his glove to cling to the glass and very, very carefully pull it out. As he was working, Vixen was busy securing another length of rope so they could rappel inside. Just as she began to feed the rope through the hole, however, Chat had to catch her arm, going utterly still…for a guard had chosen that exact moment to appear.

He seemed to be on his normal rounds, sweeping the dark hallway with his industrial flashlight, suspecting nothing…or he didn’t, at least, until a smaller flashlight suddenly clonked him on the head. Chat’s eyes went to Vixen, who was looking down at the open pouch over her chest, mouthing silent swears as the guard rubbed his head and cursed himself, crouching down to get a good look at what had nailed him. He picked up the flashlight, staring curiously…and then his head began to lift…

There was nothing for it; it had to be now or never. Chat chose now.

Swiftly sticking his legs into the hole, he let himself drop. The guard only managed a yelp that hopefully hadn’t carried too far before Chat landed on him. He didn’t struggle as Chat crouched over him, wondering if he needed to put the guard in a chokehold. A quick check told him that the guard was still alive, but unconscious, and he breathed a sigh of relief, climbing to his feet—

Pain lanced through his ankle, and Chat hissed. Fuck, he had managed to fuck up his ankle. That was just his luck.

Doing his best not to put too much weight on it without making it obvious that he was hurt, Chat grabbed the knocked out guard, jerking his head for Vixen to join him as he dragged the guard to a nearby nook, where he hid him behind a large potted plant.

“Are you crazy?!” Vixen hissed behind him, and Chat jumped; he hadn’t heard her come down. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself!”

“I’m fine,” Chat lied, hiding his grimace behind a confident grin. “Let’s go—we only have a couple more minutes before the cameras cut back on, right?”

Vixen huffed. It was clear she wanted to stand here for another minute to chew him out, but they had a mission to accomplish, and so she just swiped the flashlight that had fallen earlier, briefly checking the mini-map of the bank she had on her, swiftly glancing around.

“Stay on my tail,” she ordered him, tucking both items away and waiting until Chat had his night vision goggles in place before she pulled on her own, speed-creeping down the hall to their right. Chat followed her as swiftly as he could, cringing as his ankle throbbed. He was going to need some ice later…

Vixen abruptly stopped and pushed him back into the wall beside her; a guard appeared, but he was turning right, and once he was a decent way down the hall, she pulled Chat after her as she went left, leading him to a door down the hall. It appeared to be an office of some kind; there was a name stamped on the window—Marcel Dubois. The name was registered, but then ruled as inconsequential, because their goal was the computer that sat upon the desk within.

Lifting his goggles, Chat Noir gestured for the flashlight as he pulled out his tool bag of lock picks. As he worked, tongue clenched between his teeth, Vixen angled the light, watching him work; her presence was a physical touch upon his back, making him shiver—

The lock clicked, and Chat grinned triumphantly.

“Give me sixty seconds,” Vixen muttered to him as she passed, darting into the office and carefully sliding her skilled hands over the computer. It whirred to life under her touch, and for forty-five seconds, Chat watched Vixen’s eyes fly across the screen, processing information incredibly fast as she hacked into the system and made the necessary transfers—

Suddenly, all the lights in the building seemed to flash on, and an alarm sounded, as obnoxious and unappreciated as the sudden bright light that stung Chat’s eyes.

“Oh fuck,” Vixen swore, her gaze cutting to her stop watch. “Monarch promised me at least another minute before the cameras cut back on!”

“It could be that they just found the unconscious guard, or the hole we left in the skylight…” The nearby rumbling of footsteps and voices had Chat edging the door shut, locking it for good measure. “Yeah, it was probably definitely one of those two things.”

“Fuck.” Vixen glared at the computer screen in front of her, fingers digging into her hair, dislodging red locks from her ponytail. “The transfer isn’t finished yet!”

“We don’t need to panic just yet. It’s not like they know we’re in here—”

“Hey! Who’s in there?!”

There was a thump against the door, a grunt, and the unmistakable jangle of keys.

“Check that,” Chat mumbled, hastily making his way over to the desk. In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have been leaning against the door in the first place—his dark clothes against the window kind of made it obvious that there was someone in there. “Time to go.”

“Just a few more seconds!”

“We don’t have a few more seconds!” Chat reminded Vixen, as if the rattling of the handle wasn’t ominous enough.

“Almost…yes!” Vixen cheered as a message appeared on the computer screen, signaling that the transfer to an untraceable account was complete. She slammed her hand on the power button of the computer just as Chat yanked her from behind the desk, shoving the window open. Mercifully, the fire escape was right where it was meant to be, and Chat helped Vixen out onto it, climbing out just as someone burst into the office behind them.

“HEY!” A furious voice called, but Vixen and Chat Noir didn’t even stop to catch their breath—Vixen slid down the ladder, jumping back as Chat followed suit—

“Urgh!” Chat groaned, his right leg giving out from under him as his ankle quit on him, in too much pain to properly support him. Beside him, Vixen gasped.

“You are hurt!” She accused him, and Chat winced at her tone. He was going to pay for this later…

“I’m—ow, fuck—I’m fine!” He insisted anyway, even though his right leg began to violently shake underneath him, refusing to support his weight at all. But he couldn’t focus on it—there was crashing behind them; they were being pursued. “Just go, I’ll catch up! Go!”

“Like hell!”

Ignoring his protests, Vixen ducked down in front of him, pulling his arms over her once again, lifting him with a huge grunt. Chat took a moment to be impressed by her raw strength before another shout behind them alarmed him—

“STOP! GET BACK HERE!”

Vixen did not obey—even with Chat’s full weight, she full-on sprintedfrom the alley, darting across the street, apparently oblivious to the loud honking as she darted out in front of traffic. Chat chanced a glance back, and he nearly wept with relief at the sight of the bank guards being impeded by a large bus that got in their way, blocking them from view.

Oh thank god. That was way too close.

“Vixen—Vix, you can put me down, we lost them,” he said, but Vixen ignored him, despite the fact that her breath was heavy as she raced to the other side of the street; she refused to put him down until they reached the discreet, dark car parked on the corner two blocks away. Vixen threw open the door, pushing Chat inside before she climbed in behind him. The slam of the door was the cue to the driver, who quietly started the engine and sped down the street, effortlessly blending into downtown traffic.

“Wow,” said the woman in the passenger seat, blinking startled blue eyes as she gaped at the two of them. “What happened to you two?”

Chat met gold eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Rough night?” Asked the driver, and Chat let out a sigh. Maybe not ‘rough’…but it definitely could have gone better…

“Just….drive…” Vixen huffed, panting through her exhaustion. Chat noticed Ladybug and Paon exchange a glance, but neither of them said another word.

Chat’s ankle was throbbing, his boot way too uncomfortable now. He undid the laces and eased it off, hissing in pain. Without the pressure of his boot, he felt a little better, but his ankle still pulsed unpleasantly. Oh god, he dearly hoped it wasn’t broken…

Chat Noir glanced over at Vixen, who was staring at his ankle as she worked to catch her breath. She glanced up to meet his gaze, her eyes tight, and they stared at each other, as if to mutually register just how close they had cut things tonight.

After a moment, Chat offered a small smile.

“So…your place or mine?” He joked in an undertone, hoping to lighten the mood. Vixen just stared at him, and Chat cringed inwardly, certain she was about to shut him down—

“…Mine,” Vixen answered, looking away after a moment to stare out the window. Chat let out a breath of relief, tugging off his mask. In front of them, Paon chuckled.

“You guys just can’t get enough of each other, huh?”

“Shut up, Bird Boy.”

* * *

 

“You should’ve told me you were hurt.”

“It wasn’t a big deal—”

“We literally risk our lives to pull off these heists, Agreste,” Alya cut through his bullshit reply, her eyes sharp as she glared at him, looking sheepish as he sat on her bed while she knelt in front of him to take care of his ankle. “You  _have to tell me when you’re compromised._  That’s the only way this  _works._ ”

“Okay,” Adrien replied, wincing as she shifted the ice pack on his ankle. “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

Alya huffed, accepting the apology, but still thoroughly irritated with him as she wrapped his poor, abused ankle. What the hell had he been thinking, dropping on that guard like that? If they had been armed guards, he would have been in serious trouble!

She secured the end of the gauze, inspecting her handiwork grimly.

“You’re gonna have to stay off it for a few days,” she said, folding her arms as her elbows rested on his knees, frowning up at him. “You’ll be seriously lucky if it isn’t broken. Jesus, Adrien, of all the stupid things to do—”

“Alya,” Adrien cut her off, and Alya felt her expression soften despite herself as he slid a hand over her cheek, “I’m all right. We accomplished the mission—Monarch will get to work on moving the money as soon as possible—and we made it out of there without getting caught. Everything’s fine.”

Alya sighed from her core, still frowning, but it probably had lost its fierceness at this point. It wasn’t fair for Adrien to comfort her like this when she wanted to be mad at him for being so reckless; he somehow always knew just what to say to ease her concerns and help her breathe again. The bastard.

She only allowed his touch to placate her for a moment longer before she took his hand away from her face, lacing her fingers with his as she worked to make her expression severe again.

“Be more careful,” she ordered him. Adrien smiled a little at her.

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “So…”

Alya lifted a brow.

“So?”

“We accomplished our mission…”

“Yeah?”

“And you did say you’d make up for a certain,  _very_  distracting thing you did to me earlier…”

Alya’s lips curved into a devious smirk.

“Really? In all the excitement, I seem to have forgotten…”

“Well I remember,” Adrien insisted, raising his eyebrows. “Vividly.”

That brought a laugh out of Alya. God, he had such a one-track mind sometimes…

“You seriously want to have sex while you’re in pain?” She asked him, leaning forward so that their noses almost touched, giving him an exaggerated wide-eyed look. “I didn’t think you were such a masochist, Agreste.”

“It’s less that I’m a masochist…” Adrien began, carefully scooting forward so that Alya’s torso was practically in his lap, his head tilting to the side as he leaned over her. “…and more that you drive me crazy just by being near me, Césaire.”

“Is that right?” Alya teased, nudging him back so she could climb up, settling herself properly into his lap as she smirked down at him. “Well, I guess I do owe you for distracting you earlier…”

“Yes you do,” Adrien was quick to press, his cheeks flushing red as Alya traced those perfect cheekbones of his with her thumbs. “I expect to be repaid in full.”

“Well…what kind of lawyer would I be if I didn’t cater to my client’s wishes?” Alya asked with a grin before she swooped down and captured Adrien’s lips with her own.

After all, picture-perfect Adrien Agreste had a reputation for having the fiercest lawyer in Paris. And, heist society notwithstanding, Alya had a reputation to uphold.


	7. No Mourners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrino, but Six of Crows.

“Show me again.”

“I’m not some one-trick pony, merchling.”

Adrien pouted. No wonder people thought he was a kid, Nino mused with a smirk.

“I know that,” he insisted, picking at an imaginary spot on his palm. “I just wanted to see it again.”

“I could show you much more interesting things than pulling iron from places, you know.”

Adrien blushed, and Nino grinned. He was way too easy.

“You should stop teasing me,” he complained.

“Who says I’m teasing?” Nino said idly as he polished the handles of his guns. Nevermind that he was mostly teasing—the merchling just made it far too easy. Of course, Nino preferred a challenge, so eventually, the fun of teasing Adrien would wear off sooner than he’d like. No matter: there were a million other things he could bug Adrien about, such as his sheltered upbringing, or his hasty demo work, or—

“You don’t mean it when you flirt with me.”

Nino paused, glancing up in surprise. Adrien wasn’t looking at him, staring determinedly at a sketch of a new bomb he was working on…but was that… _hurt_ in his expression…?

“…What makes you say that?” Nino asked, more out of curiosity than anything. At least, that’s what he told himself.

“I’ve seen the way you look at Kim,” Adrien grumbled, and Nino felt his heart drop. Damn it. Was he that obvious to everyone? “You only flirt with me because you want his attention.”

Nino felt his mouth come open as he stared at the pout on Adrien’s face.

Was  _that_  what Adrien thought of him…?

Nino set his guns to the side. The noise seemed to startle Adrien; he glanced up, his eyes widening when he saw Nino getting closer. He shrank back, as if afraid that Nino would hit him, but Nino did no such thing. Instead, he grasped the merchling’s chin and planted a full-blown kiss on those pouty lips of his.

“…Look at that,” Nino muttered against Adrien’s lips when he allowed the merchling to catch his breath. “I just kissed you, and Kim’s nowhere in sight.” He smirked, letting his hand stroke across Adrien’s cheek and down his neck. Merchling he might be, but he was a pretty merchling, Nino would give him that. “So what were you saying about me only flirting when I want someone else’s attent—!”

With balls Nino didn’t even know he had, Adrien seized the collar of his shirt and pulled Nino forward, kissing him with a fierceness that left Nino breathless this time.

“You talk way too much,” Adrien scolded him in between breaths, and though he knew he was being cheeked, for the life of him, Nino couldn’t find it within himself to care.


	8. The Cat's Assistant Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of "Chat is a Private Eye" AU, in which Nino doesn't know what he's getting into.

“Of all the agencies in all of Paris, you had to walk into mine…”

Nino raised an eyebrow at the masked man sitting behind the desk, with the tousled blonde hair and wild grin that kind of made him nervous. He was very handsome, and exuded an aura that warned Nino on a subconscious level to step lightly…but the guy came highly recommended. What else could he do?

“Right…” He cleared his throat. “Listen, dude, I got a problem–”

“Is it that you’re way too attractive, and people just flock to you wherever you go?” The P.I. asked, grinning his roguish grin as Nino’s tongue seemed to get stuck to the roof of his mouth. What in the world…?

“Are you…hitting on me?” Nino asked, uncertain about how he felt about this.

The P. I. known as Chat Noir sat up with a shrug.

“I wouldn’t be a good private eye if I didn’t have sexual tension with my clients,” he said with a wink.

…Ohhh. He was a dork. Noted.

“Whatever,” Nino said with a shake of his head, though he carefully eyed the private eye as he continued, “I’m told you can help with things like stalkers. I’ve got a friend who’s in trouble, and the police won’t do anything, so…here I am.”

This seemed to make Chat Noir shift into a more serious mindset.

“I see. Does your friend know you’re here?”

“Well…no,” Nino admitted with a huff. “And she’d probably kill me if she knew…but I couldn’t just sit around and do  _nothing_ , could I?”

Chat Noir gazed up at him, hands folded on his desk, appearing to silently contemplate something.

“…Sounds like you’re a really good friend,” he complimented, a slight smile tugging at his lips. Nino blinked. Was this guy still hitting on him? Or…?

Whatever it was that was happening right now…Nino felt himself warm at the praise. Sure, he liked to think of himself as a good friend, but to have it pointed out by a stranger…

“Uh,” he began, trying to regain his train of thought, looking away from Chat Noir’s eyes. “Right.” He coughed, rubbing the back of his head. “Anyway, before I tell you anything, I want your word that this won’t get out. My friend can’t know I’m here.”

Chat Noir nodded.

“They don’t call me a ‘private’ eye for nothing.” His lips stretched into that wild grin again. “I can keep more than a few secrets…trust me.”

Nino felt himself swallow as he noticed, not for the first time, how handsome this guy was. And he kept flirting with him, but whether it was for fun or if there was something to it, Nino couldn’t tell…yet.

Oh jeez. Just what was he getting himself into…?


	9. The Cat's Assistant Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the "Chat is a Private Eye" AU, in which Nino REALLY doesn't know what he's getting himself into. Ninoir.

Just what in the hell had he gotten himself into?

Oh right–he hadn’t agreed to this at  _all._

“Uh, dude?” Nino piped up, swiveling nervously on his stool as the man in the black suit, black mask, and black hat topped with black cat ears lounged against the bar behind them. “I really don’t think I need to be here for this–”

“Shh,” Chat Noir shushed him, turning to raised a clawed finger to his lips, shooting Nino a wink. Nino hastily glanced away, feeling his face grow hot as he rubbed the back of his head. “I promise, this won’t take long.”

Jeez–Chat Noir did him  _one_  favor, and ever since then, Nino couldn’t get rid of him. He always popped up in random places and managed to get himself into some shenanigans that Nino had to ultimately bail him out of. It was ridiculous–what was he, Chat Noir’s assistant?

If so, he was gonna start demanding a check one of these days…

“Isn’t this, like, stalking or something?” Nino grumbled, lifting his non-alcoholic drink to his lips–Chat wouldn’t buy him one with alcohol because they were ‘on the job’, which was ridiculous, because it wasn’t  _Nino’s_  job to do, but–

“It’s not stalking if I’m being paid to watch this guy,” Chat reminded him; he swiped Nino’s drink as Nino lowered it, taking a casual sip as Nino stared in mild disbelief. “His wife is paying good money to make sure he’s not cheating on her. And I kinda need that money, so…”

Ah…money troubles? That explained why Nino had been constantly pulling this guy out of ridiculous situations lately…

Nino eyed the man across the bar doubtfully. Sure, he was with an attractive woman, and sure, they seemed to be having a good time, but honestly? Nino had his doubts.

“I really don’t think he’s cheating,” he said after a moment, turning to face Chat Noir, who quirked an eyebrow at him over his mask.

“Oh? And what makes you say that?”

Oh…was Nino overstepping here? Yeah, he wasn’t the private eye here, and he knew to leave stuff out of his purview to the professionals, but…

“Well, I mean…yeah, he’s hanging out with another woman, but they’re sitting a reasonable distance away from each other, and I don’t think we’ve seen them touch once. And if he was cheating, don’t you think he’d at least take his wedding ring off?” Nino noted, nodding in the man‘s direction. He watched as Chat Noir squinted, green eyes narrowing behind the black mask he wore.

Idly, and not for the first time, Nino wondered what was up with the get-up. Yeah, he was a private eye, but wasn’t he taking this cat theme a little too seriously? And it didn’t exactly make him blend in–if anything, he stuck out  _more_ , what with the mask and the hat and the fact that he was terribly attractive–

–Wait. No, Nino didn’t think he was–oh god, did he? Did he think Chat Noir was attractive…?

“Uh-oh,” Chat Noir mumbled, and Nino seized up for a brief moment, horrified that his thoughts had somehow been communicated to the man beside him. When Chat Noir turned towards him, Nino could see the anxiety tightening those  ~~pretty~~   _normal_  green eyes of his.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s onto us,” Chat mumbled. “ _Don’t look_ ,” he added severely when Nino turned to look. “I can’t be caught here, he’s already seen me tailing him one too many times–just, uh, pretend you’re talking to me. Say something.”

Nino blinked.

“Like what?”

Chat Noir grimaced, eyes flashing over to his target.

“Anything, just–oh, he’s coming over, he’s coming over,” Chat mumbled, turning wide eyes onto Nino. “Damn it, I blew my cover, I’m not gonna get paid, they’re gonna shut off my electricity, oh god, we gotta get outta here, we gotta–”

Nino didn’t know why, but the sight of Chat Noir panicking like this, when he was usually so  ~~adorkable~~  calm and confident struck that chord within him, that chord that was always plucked whenever he saw someone in trouble. No matter what, he had to help Chat, but as for how…

The first thought Nino had to get out of this situation was so ludicrous that he was sure such a move would just throw everyone off.

And so he did it: in the middle of Chat’s panicked babbling, Nino leaned over, lifting the brim of Chat’s hat to kiss him. His eyes were shut tight so he wouldn’t see Chat’s reaction, but he still felt it–Chat seized up, and Nino could just picture the surprise that must be rounding those pretty– _average, damn it–_ green eyes of his, a tiny squeak of surprise escaping those lips that were surprisingly as soft as they looked–

Nino counted to ten–or close to ten, since he, uh, kind of lost track a couple times–before he pulled back. He took a deep breath, and then opened his eyes.

Chat Noir was staring at him, his lips parted from the kiss, his entire face flushed red. Nino felt rather hot around the collar himself, and he leaned back, clearing his throat as his eyes darted around, looking for the target–

Ah, there he was…behind Chat Noir, ordering a drink.

Nino felt his shoulders slump. He hadn’t come over to confront Chat Noir–he just wanted a drink. And Nino had overreacted right along with the private eye and kissed him. Great. This was just great.

Chat Noir was still silently staring at him. Nino cleared his throat again, waiting until the target left the bar before he spoke.

“Uh…sorry. I sort of…panicked. It, uh, was…the first thing I thought of–”

“It’s okay,” Chat interrupted, trying to smile despite the fact that his eyes were still round in shock. “It’s fine, it’s uh, yeah. I mean, I was panicking too, so–”

“Right.”

“Right.”

“…”

“…”

Nobody spoke for a long moment.

“Well! Uh, I think…yeah, I think we’re done here,” Chat decided. Nino noticed him wobble a bit as he stood up from his stool, and found it odd, since neither of them had been drinking.

Aw damn, neither of them had been drinking, so Nino couldn’t pass it off as a drunken impulse thing…

Nino once again needlessly cleared his throat as he stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets without looking at Chat Noir.

“So, uh…to the office? I, uh, left my car there to come with you here–”

“Oh! Yeah, of course! Uh, let’s go,” Chat Noir agreed heartily, and Nino watched him speed ahead of him, long legs outpacing Nino easily, even though he was taller. Nino sighed, taking his time to leave the bar. This was going to be an awkward drive…

* * *

 

Nino said nothing as Chat entered his office, flicking on the lights and heading to his desk. He watched as Chat carefully removed his hat, placing it on his desk, his back still to Nino. Neither of them had spoken in the past ten minutes, and it was starting to get to Nino. He…had made things way too awkward, hadn’t he?

Nino sighed under his breath. So much for helping.

“Uh, Chat?” He spoke, hovering in the doorway, because he didn’t dare come closer for fear of making things worse. “Listen, dude–”

“It’s Adrien.”

Nino paused, blinking at Chat Noir’s back.

“Huh?”

He watched as Chat Noir seemed to pause for a moment, touching his face. After a minute, something else joined his hat on the desk: a black mask.

Chat Noir turned around, and for the first time, Nino got a good look at the man behind the mask.

And dear god, he was  _so_ pretty. Sure, there were lines on his face from where the mask had bitten into his skin, but oh lord, Nino was so shook at how pretty that face was that he had to lean against the door frame for support. As he stared, Chat offered him a hesitant smile that was not at all Chat-like, but still so endearing that Nino found himself clutching his chest. Was this guy trying to kill him?

“My name,” Chat said after another quiet moment; he blushed, glancing away and rubbing the back of his neck, and Nino almost  _died._  “It’s Adrien.”

Adrien.

Nino cleared his throat again, tugging at his collar, because hoo boy, it was suddenly so hot in here that he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“Adrien,” he repeated, and Chat–Adrien–glanced up, a light entering his eyes that Nino had never seen before. It was a light that was bad for his health, if the way his heart was pumping was a clue. God, he had to get out of here. “Well, uh, Adrien…again, I’m sorry for…well, you know.”

Adrien shrugged.

“It’s okay. I, uh, wasn’t exactly coherent either, so…”

Again, silence fell, with the two of them just staring at each other. Finally, Nino swallowed and, somehow, tore his gaze away from that pretty face.

“So! Uh, it’s getting late, and I should head home…got some stuff to do, you know…”

“Right.” Adrien nodded. “Thanks, then, for keeping me company lately.”

“No problem. Uh, hope business starts getting better for you. Can’t have the lights shut off, right?” Nino laughed nervously as a little voice in the back of his mind ordered him to stop talking, stop talking  _now_ , and leave immediately. “All right, well…see ya ‘round.”

“Yeah…”

Nino got maybe two steps down the hall before he was called back.

“Nino?”

He whirled around so fast that he nearly fell over; he threw out a hand to the wall beside him to steady himself, cursing his awkward lankiness.

“Yeah?”

Adrien was standing in the doorway now, smoothing a hand through that messy blonde hair of his. Nino felt his eyes follow the moment, and then he sternly ordered himself to stop being creepy.

“You…still have my card, right?” Adrien asked, tilting his head curiously to the side. Nino blinked, recalling the existence of the card Chat Noir had given him at the end of their first business deal, when he had scared away Alya’s stalker for Nino. He nodded, certain that he still had that card around  _somewhere._

“Yeah?”

“Good.” Adrien paused, his lips curling into an uncertain smile. “Will you…give me a call sometime?”

Nino felt his mouth go dry.

“…I thought the number on that card was your business line,” he blurted without thinking, and then wanted to kick himself, but his foot was too busy being wedged into his mouth for that. After all, Adrien hadn’t given any indication that he wanted Nino to call him  _personally–_

The grin Adrien gave next was so Chat-like that it completely distracted Nino from his inward self-flogging.

“I added my personal number to the back of the card.” He winked. “Y’know. Just in case.”

…Holy hell, how did he  _do_  that? The rebound of his swagger almost intimidated Nino, but he made himself stand tall and return the grin.

“Then I guess you might be hearing from me soon.”

Adrien winked. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

As Nino left the office of one Chat Noir, Private Eye, he immediately made plans to turn his apartment upside-down. He was going to find that card if it was the last thing he would ever do.


	10. Miraculous Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A DJFox Christmas fic. Feelings get in the way of superhero-ing, on occasion.

           Nino could not believe this.

           All he had been trying to do was search for the perfect Christmas gift for Alya. Instead, he found himself smack dab in the middle of an akuma attack. Fan-freaking-tastic.

           ‘ _Why the hell would Hawkmoth do this so close to Christmas?_ ’ Nino grumped to himself as he hid behind a trash can, scowling at the akuma wreaking havoc upon Paris. ‘ _Who hurt him this badly that he has to ruin everyone else’s holiday? Dude needs a therapist._ ’

           There was a sudden thump behind him, and Nino jumped, raising his bag like a shield to ward off whatever was about to attack him—

           “Whoa, relax, cutie,” said a playful voice that made Nino’s heart rate skyrocket. “I’m not here to gobble you up, I’m here to get you to safety.”

           Nino dropped his bag and stumbled back a step, gawking at the shining hazel eyes that winked at him from behind an orange and white mask.

           “V-Vixen!” He stuttered, feeling himself blush and hating it; he adjusted his glasses in an attempt to hide his rosy cheeks, but the way Vixen’s grin widened let him know that he was not successful. Damn it. “U-uh, fancy meeting you here!”

           Vixen’s grin turned ironic.

           “Oh yeah. Akuma attacks, and suddenly, I show up. Weird, huh?” There was a crash behind him, and Nino peeked over just in time to watch Chat Noir get thrown back by the akuma, Ladybug growling in rage as she swung forward to catch him. Boy, looked like they had their hands full this time around…

           “I’d better help them,” Vixen mused from behind Nino, “but first…”

           Suddenly, Nino’s feet left the ground. He yelped in surprise, clutching his bag for dear life, blinking bewildered eyes as Vixen hoisted him into her arms, as if he weighed no heavier than a small child. He felt his mouth come open, staring up at her as she suddenly sailed through the sky, looking every bit as confident and beautiful as she always did…

           Nino felt a stab of guilt pierce him. Life had been so simple before Vixen had appeared in his life—all he had to worry about was his crush on Alya, and what he would do about it. But ever since a certain foxy superhero appeared in his bedroom window a few weeks prior…

           “Hang on, DJ,” she told him, glancing down at him with a wink as she jumped through the city, sailing effortlessly through the air, like some kind of ethereal goddess.

           Nino could only cover his face with his hands to hide his embarrassment. His life was a sham.

           They finally touched down at the Notre Dame, where people seemed to be gathering, using the church as a safe haven as the akuma terrorized the city. Vixen set him down under an alcove, brushing off her hands for a job well done.

           “There we go. You should be safe here,” she said, grinning up at him. Nino swallowed. God, she was gorgeous…

           “Right, uh, thanks…” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt so out of his element right now; it was different when Vixen popped by to chat while he was working on his music or something, because he could just be himself then. After this impromptu rescue, however, he had no idea how to react to her. What did he say to a superhero girl he sort of had a crush on after she had just rescued him from peril?

           As Nino attempted to work it out, he noticed Vixen’s eyes flick upwards, up to something above them. He saw her eyes briefly round in surprise, and then she snickered, her face splitting into her widest grin yet.

           “What?” Nino asked, both concerned and intrigued by that grin…weird, he always felt that way when Alya smiled that wide, too…

           As an answer, Vixen merely pointed up. Nino glanced up…

           Mistletoe was hanging from the arch above them.

           Nino could only stare at it as Vixen giggled in front of him.

           “I had no idea when I put you down, I promise,” she said, and Nino wasn’t quite sure if he believed the innocent smile she gave him, especially when she ruined it by winking. “But if you wanna give me a little peck, I certainly won’t complain.”

           Nino stared at her.

           Was…was she serious…?

           He stayed silent for way too long; Vixen’s grin dimmed, and she glanced away from him, her ears drooping as if she was embarrassed.

           “It was just a joke,” she tried to brush it off, readjusting her ponytail as she gazed into the distance, a slight frown marring her features as something like a yowl carried over to them. Chat Noir must be in trouble… “Anyway, I should probably get going. Don’t want the team to have all the fun witho—”

           She didn’t get to finish. As soon as she turned back to say her goodbyes to Nino, suddenly, he was leaning over her, his hands on her face as he shut his eyes and mashed his lips to hers.

           Vixen stiffened under his touch. Inwardly, Nino was panicking. Why the  _hell_  had he gone and done something so stupid?! Just because she joked about kissing him didn’t mean she actually  _wanted_  to! What was he, an idiot?!

           He pulled back, slitting his eyes open to gauge just how mad she was that he had pulled such a stunt—

           Vixen stared at him, her eyes wide, her lips still puckered from the surprise kiss he had pushed on her. As he watched, his disbelief (and hope) grew as Vixen’s cheeks warmed, blinking slowly as her fingertips touched her bottom lip, as if she had to confirm by touch that that had just happened—

           There was an abrupt chime, and both he and Vixen glanced down at her necklace, where the tail was flashing. She would de-transform soon if she wasn’t careful…

           “Oh,” Vixen said after a moment, and Nino felt something swell within him at how  _breathless_  she sounded. “I should…uh—”

           “Go,” Nino supplied the necessary word when Vixen seemed to have trouble. He kept his laughter inward, certain that she wouldn’t appreciate it, but damn she was adorable. He watched as she fidgeted, smoothing her hair back as she nodded, looking distracted.

           “Yeah. Uh, I should…gonna…bye,” she concluded after she seemed to give up on words, sparing him a quick smile before she fled, jumping over a rooftop or two before she disappeared, presumably to refuel her kwami. Nino stood there, staring after her long after she was out of sight, his heart thumping unevenly. Well…this night had certainly taken a turn for the interesting…

           “Ahem. Nino, if you are finished swooning, I believe they could also use our assistance,” said a voice from underneath his hat, and Nino shook himself, letting out a quiet sigh. Right—a superhero’s duty was never done, was it?

           “Right, right—Wayzz, transform me!”

* * *

 

           Trixx wouldn’t stop smirking at her, looking smugger than any creature had a right to.

           “So,” she drawled, munching as slowly as she possibly could on her strawberry as Alya stood slumped against the wall, covering her mouth with a hand as her face burned, “‘just a friend’, huh?”

           Alya groaned, dislodging her glasses as she covered her face with her hands.

           “Shut up and eat,” she scolded her kwami lightly, cringing at the cackling she received in turn. She was never going to hear the end of this.


	11. Favorite Customer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Coffee Shop AU (because we're all caffeine addicts) with Ninette. Brief appearance by Obnoxious Kim.

“Hey,” said Kim, grinning as he nudged Nino’s side. “There’s your number one customer.”

Nino glanced up from the latte he was making, spotting the dark-haired, blue-eyed girl that often found her way into the coffee shop during his shifts. As he watched, she bit her lip uneasily as she glanced around, as if looking for something…

Suddenly, her eyes caught his on her, and her face exploded in red. As she ducked her head, Kim cackled.

“So, when’s the wedding?”

Nino rolled his eyes at his co-worker, hoping that would distract from his own embarrassment.

“Just because she’s blushing doesn’t mean she’s interested in me,” Nino said, feeling his heart sink as he spoke the words. “Maybe she’s just shy.”

“Uh-huh. Which is why she only blushes around  _you_.” Kim shook his head and nudged Nino away from the drink he was making. “I’ve got this. You go take her order. Go on, I know you want to.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a busybody, dude?” Nino grumbled, but nonetheless made his way over to the counter, smiling easily at the girl, even as her freckled skin flooded with red. “Hi, welcome back. The usual?”

“Um, y-yes,” his favorite customer stuttered, and Nino thought her hand might be shaking as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He tried not to think too deeply on it as he grabbed a travel cup from the side, grabbing a Sharpie and writing down the woman’s preferred drink.

“Name?” He asked, glancing over as he wondered if she would actually give it to him this time–usually, this was about the point where she dissolved into a stuttering mess for no apparent reason, and Nino took pity on her and made her drink himself so it wouldn’t be confused with anyone else’s.

Today, however, something must have been different, for the woman, though her face was still plenty red, squared her shoulders.

“M-Marinette,” she answered, and at last, Nino had a name to go along with that lovely face. “M-my name is Marinette.”

“…Marinette,” Nino repeated, smiling. Marinette’s face grew impossibly redder, and she ducked her head again. Once again, Nino took pity on her and moved on, scribbling her name on the side of the cup before passing it on to his coworker, turning to the cash register next. “Sorry I won’t be able to personally make your coffee today, but I’m sure it’ll still be good.”

Marinette mumbled something as she handed him the cash to pay for her drink, shifting from foot to foot. Nino blinked, leaning forward.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that…”

Marinette took a deep breath, her blue eyes peering up at him.

“I, I said…that I-I l-like your face– _COFFEE!_ I like your coffee! Th-the coffee here! I like it, it’s good!”

Nino stared at her, feeling himself grow warm under the collar as she stared at him, mortified. She squeaked out a thanks, and then swiftly moved over to the waiting line; Nino watched her bury her face into the collar of her coat, and something warm washed through him.

Oh no…she was  _adorable._

The question was…what was he going to do about it?

“Kim, hold up,” Nino requested, grabbing Kim’s arm as he picked up Marinette’s completed coffee order, picking up the Sharpie once again. “I forgot to add something…”

Kim squinted at the sequence of numbers Nino had added right under Marinette’s name, sending Nino a sly look.

“Your phone number, huh? Tell me again how you don’t think she’s interested?”

“Shut up and give her the cup.”


	12. Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas fic in which Alya and Adrien discover that they may actually work, crazy though it sounds. Alyadrien.

Alya watched the snow dance to the earth, indifferent. As beautiful as the display was, she just wasn’t feeling this Christmas. She didn’t even know why she agreed to come to this party; what was the point when she only knew one person there, who was too busy playing host to everyone else to hang out with her?

She sighed, her breath fogging up the window.

She missed Marinette. As proud as she was of her best friend for moving to New York to pursue her fashion degree, it didn’t change the fact that Alya was unbearably lonely without her here. Especially since their holiday plans had fallen through, with Marinette missing her flight back to Paris due to a massive snowstorm that had hit her adopted city. And with her and Nino giving each other space after their break-up last year, Alya was as far into the holiday blues as she could be. It was official: getting out of her apartment tonight to be around people she didn’t know had been the opposite of what she needed.

‘ _Screw this,_ ’ she decided, moving away from the window to squeeze her way through the party, which was now in full swing, bodies pressed so close together that she was uncomfortably warm in her sweater. As Alya pushed through the crowd to reach the door, she sent a brief glance Kim’s way, wondering if she should let him know that she was dipping out early…aw, he wouldn’t notice. She’d just send him a text later, thanking him for the invite, even if she didn’t particularly have much fun…

Alya was just reaching the door when it suddenly opened, and she jumped back in surprise.

“Oh, sorry,” said the stranger as he stood in the doorway, looking sheepish. Alya spared him a brief glance before she edged around him.

“No problem,” she mumbled, just ready to leave. “Merry Christmas.”

She got to the front step before her shoulder was suddenly seized. She turned, scowling at the sudden contact. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

“Ah,” said the stranger, blinking green eyes as if he was surprised; he released her shoulder to ruffle the back of his blonde head. “Sorry. I just…you look familiar…”

Alya adjusted her glasses, squinting at him. …Huh…now that he mentioned it…

“…Adrien?” She gasped, once her mind actually made the connection, gawking at him now. “Adrien Agreste?”

“Alya Cesaire?” Adrien asked in turn, and when Alya nodded, his face broke into a miracle grin, warming his angular face and helping Alya see past the man to the boy she once knew. “Oh wow! I haven’t seen you since—”

“Since we graduated  _collége,_ yeah!” Alya finished for him, laughing breathlessly at the pleasant surprise. As she eyed him up and down, she added, “Well, you haven’t seen  _me,_  but I’ve certainly seen  _you,_   _M._  International Supermodel. What’re you doing slumming it with us commoners? Shouldn’t you be at a fabulous fashion  _soirée_ somewhere, not eating the decadent  _hors d’oeuvres?_ ”

Adrien cringed, still somehow looking handsome despite the anguished expression.

“I decided to skip that this year,” he admitted, burying his hands in the pockets of his designer jacket. “I kinda wanna eat this Christmas.” He glanced over his shoulder, and then blinked down at Alya. “Are you leaving?”

“Ah, yeah,” Alya admitted with a shrug, tugging her scarf a little tighter around her. “It’s a little too wild in there for me. But you go ahead and enjoy. There are a couple old faces in there I’m sure would be thrilled to see you.”

Adrien glanced over his shoulder again, and then back down to her. She smiled when she met his eyes. It was nice to see him in person again…maybe she’d send him a message over Facebook sometime so they could get reacquainted properly the next time he was in town…

Adrien stared at her for a long moment…and then, to Alya’s surprise, he stepped back outside, shutting the door behind him.

“Wanna go get coffee?” He asked with a hopeful smile, the tip of his nose already turning rosy from the cold. Alya stared at him in utter disbelief…and then she smiled, feeling a rush of gratitude for the kindness that seemed to stay with Adrien, despite the years that had passed.

“I’d love to.”

* * *

 

“Really? You and Nino aren’t…together?”

Alya made a face over her mug. She really didn’t want to rehash, but…

“We had a good run,” she pointed out, sipping at her latte as Adrien sat across from her, staring as if he had just been informed that Santa Clause did not exist. “And we’re still friends. We’re just giving each other some space for the holidays. Cuffing season, y’know.”

Adrien’s brow furrowed. Alya pursed her lips. How did his skin manage to remain perfect when he made faces like that? She was going to have to learn his secret before she went home.

“Cuffing season?” He asked, the phrase obviously foreign to him. Alya smirked at his innocence.

“You know how you see more couples than you usually do around the holidays?”

“I guess?”

“That’s because it’s cuffing season. No one wants to be alone during the cold months, so they jump at anyone who’s even remotely interested, and they stay together until the spring, only to break up as soon as it gets warm so they can find someone more suitable. Hence, the end of cuffing season. Although,” Alya said, interrupting her explanation as she eyed Adrien up and down, “I doubt you’ve had this problem. Any girl you date is probably looking to stay with you for life. On that note, make sure you always wear a condom. Some girls out here will trap you by getting pregnant, you know.”

Adrien turned an interesting shade of red. It was kind of cute.

“Uh, anyway,” he said, changing the subject after he cleared his throat, “how’s Marinette?”

“She’s good. Stuck in New York for the holiday, but I doubt she minds too much, since her boyfriend also happens to live in New York,” Alya said, making a face. Lucky bastard, getting to spend Christmas with Marinette.

“Oh, she’s seeing someone?” Adrien asked, and Alya was bleakly amused at his surprise.

“Well you didn’t expect her to wait around for you  _forever_ , did you?” She teased. Adrien stared at her, and belatedly, it occurred to Alya that maybe this was a can she shouldn’t have opened. Whoops.

“…You mean,” he began slowly, as if piecing together a puzzle that was only causing him so much difficulty because he was looking at it upside-down, “that Marinette—”

“—Had a  _huge_  crush on you in  _collége,_ yes,” Alya finished for him. A part of her felt bad, divulging this long-kept secret to the object of affection himself, but hey, enough time had passed where she figured it was safe to talk about it. It wasn’t as if Marinette was still hung up on the guy anyway, if her letters about her new beau were any indication.

Silence filled the air as Alya sipped at her coffee, watching the snow fall. After a couple minutes, Adrien spoke.

“I didn’t know,” he admitted, his voice quiet. Alya turned to him with a dry look.

“I know you didn’t know,” she assured him flatly. “Everyone  _but_  you knew. You took ‘obliviousness’ to a whole new level, and frankly, I was kind of miffed at you for not noticing. I know it wasn’t your fault,” she prefaced when Adrien began to look troubled, “but Marinette’s my best friend, so I’m obligated to be upset on her behalf.”

“Um…sorry?” Adrien said awkwardly. Alya laughed, waving away the apology.

“Don’t sweat it. It was a long time ago; we’re cool.” She set down her mug, eyeing the model across from her once again. “So? Who’s occupying your bed nowadays? A girlfriend? A casual hook-up?”

Adrien’s blush deepened. Red was a good color on him, Alya mused.

“Ahem. Uh, no,” Adrien replied after a flustered moment of him getting himself together. He raised his mug, mumbling shyly behind it, “there’s no one in my life like that.”

Alya stared at him.

He wasn’t serious, was he?

“Seriously? You’re not seeing anybody?  _You?_ ” She shook her head in disbelief. “That’s not possible, you’re  _way_  too hot to be single.”

Her candid comment made Adrien choke on his coffee; she had to lean forward and thump him on the back to help him clear his air passage. Once he could breathe again, Adrien mopped his chin with a napkin, looking more embarrassed than he had all night. Alya relished it; she doubted many people were able to see him so ungraceful. She kind of wished she could take a picture without him noticing.

His next comment cut through her smugness: “I could say the same about you.”

Alya blinked, and then stared at him.

…Did Adrien Agreste just say that? To  _her?_

He wasn’t looking at her, his face as red as a candy cane, still rubbing at his mouth with the napkin, though it looked as if it was an unconscious gesture at this point. He glanced over at her after a moment, and his blush grew. …Intriguing…

“…Well,” she said, choosing to take the comment in stride, “thank you. But I’m not a supermodel, unlike some people I know.” She gave him a pointed look, and he grinned sheepishly. “Besides, it’s Christmas Eve. Your ignorance of cuffing season aside, don’t you naturally just hate being alone this time of year?”

Adrien took his time answering this time, contemplating his mug as if he was watching an interesting program occurring within the liquid. After a few moments of silence, his gaze flicked up, meeting hers.

“…But I’m not alone,” he pointed out, nodding to her when Alya took a moment to understand his meaning. She considered that, finding herself smiling without meaning to.

“I guess not,” she agreed, lifting her mug to clink it against his.

* * *

 

Before Alya knew it, it was four in the morning. She blinked at her phone when she eyed the time, certain that couldn’t be correct. After all, there was no way she had spent the whole entire night walking around Paris and talking with Adrien Agreste, right? There was no way she found herself drawn in by him and his smiles and stories, laughing at his stupid puns and bantering back and forth with him all night…there was no way she found herself walking close with him, accepting the warmth of his arm when she shivered in the cold, making a competition out of catching snowflakes with their tongues…there was no way that this was real. That this was possible.

Was there?

“Alya?”

She jumped, startled by the hand that brushed past her cheek, somehow warming her skin more effectively than any hot beverage. She glanced over from where she leaned over the fence overlooking the Seine, gazing wryly at the model beside her as he reclined against the fence. What, was he constantly posing out of habit or something?

“What?” She asked him, wondering if he had asked her a question and she had missed it, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to pay attention. She watched as Adrien’s brow furrowed, his eyes intense as he studied her. Suddenly, she found it difficult to look him in the eye.

“You just look like you’re worried about something,” he said after a moment. Alya’s lips twisted. She never was good about hiding her emotions.

“It’s nothing,” she lied initially, not wanting to make a big deal out of this for more reasons than one, all of them complicated. But when Adrien kept staring, she sighed in defeat. She didn’t know why, but…it felt wrong to lie to him. Maybe it was his innocence. “It’s just…”

“Yes?” He prompted when she paused, leaning closer to her. His proximity was like a physical touch; Alya let out a huff, watching her breath mist over in the cold before she finally made herself turn to face him. After all, she was never one to avoid things; if she couldn’t face difficult situations head-on, then she would never get anything done.

“…Are we crazy?” She asked after looking at him for a long moment, searching his eyes. There was something there…something she had witnessed growing all night, the later they stayed out, the longer they talked, the closer they got. She knew he felt it too, this…thing…between them, which was why she said ‘we’ instead of ‘I’, because it couldn’t be just her. He felt it too, she could see it.

The question was: what were they going to do about it?

The  _thing_  twinkled in Adrien’s eyes, all but acknowledged. He blinked slowly, searching her face just as intently as she had searched his. The air seemed to still around them, the early morning holding its breath, waiting for them to teeter one way or the other…

“…I don’t think so,” he replied at last, lifting and dropping a shoulder, as if it was the most casual thing in the world to admit that there was a spark between them. “I mean, I get it—it  _does_  feel crazy…” He dropped his gaze for a moment, and then glanced up at her through his lashes. Alya felt her heart thump unevenly, and she wanted to scowl. He was doing this on purpose, wasn’t he?

“…But it’s a good kind of crazy, isn’t it?” He finished quietly, as if he was afraid of disturbing the hush of the morning.

For probably the first time in her life, Alya hesitated. After all, this was seven thousand kinds of complicated: not only had Adrien been the love of Marinette’s life at one point, but he had  _also_  been Nino’s best friend, and they still kept in regular contact, as far as Alya knew. To do this—to actually even  _consider_  what she was thinking—felt like two types of betrayal to people she loved.

But on the other hand, to deny something like this—to betray her  _own_  heart—

Adrien interrupted her internal debate; his hand touched her face, his thumb sliding across her cheek. Alya felt her eyes close, her head tipping back automatically as she felt his breath on her lips—

His lips were warm, soft, and inviting, and as Alya melted into the kiss, she felt herself surrender. Even if this meant she would have to have a couple potentially awkward conversations with her friends later, she knew that in this moment, in this kiss, that there was something between her and Adrien Agreste. Something that had the potential to be  _amazing,_  if she would let it.

When they parted for air, Alya opened her eyes, finding that Adrien’s were still closed, his face flushed deeper than the cold was responsible for. As she watched, his eyes slowly opened, and the warmth there…well, Alya felt that her knees might turn to jelly. But she wasn’t about to let him know that.

“…” A slow smile stretched across Adrien’s face. “Wow.”

Alya laughed. ‘Wow’ indeed.

Somewhere nearby, a bird chirped. Alya glanced up, surprised to find that the sky was beginning to lighten. Dawn was coming.

“C’mon,” Adrien said, straightening up and sliding an arm around her. “I’ll walk you home.”

“What a gentleman,” Alya teased him, willingly sinking into his warmth. Well, not a bad way to spend Christmas in her book. Not a bad way at all.


	13. Not on My Watch Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tikki reveals a horrifying truth about the Black Cat Miraculous to Marinette, and she rushes off to make sure history stops repeating itself. Because Ladybug always outlives the Black Cat in the end.

Marinette trooped up the stairs to her room, flopping onto her  _chaise longue_  with a satisfied sigh. It pleased her to help her parents out with their bakery, of course, but when rush hour arrived and things got hectic, it was blessed relief to finally escape to her room once her shift was over.

A giggle from her computer desk alerted her to Tikki’s presence, and she tiredly raised her head to make a face at her kwami.

“Something funny?”

“You just look like you’re ready to fall asleep right there,” Tikki teased, her large, indigo eyes bright with amusement. “I guess I’ll have to postpone my storytelling to another night–”

“No, no!” Marinette insisted, sitting up so fast that she got a head rush. Nevertheless, she hurried over to her computer chair to be closer to Tikki. “I want to know what happened when JieJie met the dragon! Oh, or you can tell me about Mudekudeku and her Chat Noir again! Oh, but he was ‘Black Lion’, wasn’t he? Oh, or how about–”

“One at a time, Marinette,” Tikki cautioned her, though she giggled once again. “You like hearing about the previous Ladybugs and Chat Noirs a lot, hmm?”

“Well yeah! Their lives were fascinating!” Marinette raised her eyebrows in a teasing fashion. “But I notice that you talk more about the Ladybugs than the Chat Noirs. A little biased, are we?”

Tikki stuck out her tiny little tongue.

“Am not. I just know more about the past Ladybugs than I do the past Chat Noirs, since Ladybug is always  _my_  territory.” The kwami closed her eyes, appearing to muse on something. “Besides, it’s not like I got to know the past Chat Noirs very well anyway, since we always outlive him–”

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Tikki abruptly stopped talking. Her eyes flew open, and she stared at Marinette in wide-eyed horror. Belatedly, Marinette realized that the sharp gasp had come from her. Strange…she was not having such an easy time breathing, currently…

“…What do you mean…?” She slowly asked the kwami, her voice quiet, breaking on the last word. Her hands began to shake; she gripped the armrests of her chair to keep them steady.

Tikki just stared at her. She had closed her mouth, looking very much like she wished she hadn’t said anything. But it was too late–the words were out. And they were words that threatened to tear Marinette’s world apart.

“It…It was an accident, Marinette–”

“What do you  _mean_ , Tikki?!” Marinette insisted now, leaning forward, urgency in every nerve of her body. Tikki flinched, putting more distance between them, looking contrite.

“I…I just meant…in the past…the Chat Noirs always died early…because…well…because they always always protect Ladybug from harm. That’s why…we always outlive him. He…they…it’s always for our safety. The safety of Ladybug.”

Blood was roaring in Marinette’s ears. Distinctly, in her mind’s eye, she saw each and every moment in her time as Ladybug where Chat Noir threw himself into harm’s way to protect her. He never seemed to give it a thought, either: it seemed an automatic thing, the way he used himself as a shield for her well-being. Almost as if it was…

Instinct.

Marinette stood up so fast that her head swam again, but she didn’t let that deter her. She had to do something, and she had to do it  _now_ , while she still had the opportunity.

The past Ladybugs might have outlived their Chat Noirs, but that was not going to be her story. If this was a pattern woven by Fate, then she would break it, even if it meant incurring the wrath of Fate itself.

Because she would  _never_  be Ladybug without Chat Noir.

“Tikki: transform me!”

* * *

 

Adrien  _still_  couldn’t believe his luck.

It was one thing for Ladybug to finally want to reveal her civilian identity to him a couple nights ago, but for her to reveal herself as  _Marinette_ , a girl Adrien knew and liked? It seemed too good to be true. In fact, he still had the bruises from pinching himself the night of the reveal, just to make sure he hadn’t been dreaming. (There were awkward questions he had to deflect at his next photoshoot, though.)

He sat at his computer desk, sighing in contentment. He was technically supposed to be doing his homework, but he couldn’t focus. He was too busy watching the clock, counting down the minutes. It was a couple hours too early for patrol with his Lady tonight, but Adrien found that he couldn’t think of anything else. Just to know that Ladybug, sassy, beautiful, miraculous  _Ladybug_  was also Marinette, sweet, funny, charming  _Marinette_  was almost more than he could handle. It seemed to come as a shock to her as well, who Chat Noir was underneath the mask, but Adrien couldn’t bring himself to worry about that. All he could focus on was that he was glad it was her.

Oh, if only time would go just a little bit faster…

There was a tapping sound behind him.

Curious, Adrien turned around, wondering if Plagg was messing with something…only to fall out of his chair when he realized it was  _Ladybug_  at his window. Attempting to contain his glee (and failing spectacularly), Adrien scrambled to his feet and bounded across his room, carefully opening the window to grant Ladybug entrance.

Oh god… _Ladybug was in his room._  And he hadn’t tidied or anything, oh god oh god oh god–

‘ _Focus, Adrien! Uh, um…say something witty! Be Chat Noir!’_

“Buginette! What an unexpected surprise! I thought we weren’t meeting until–” Once Ladybug had descended down to his floor, Adrien got a good look at her face, and his smile dropped instantly. “Ladybug?”

She was awfully pale, Adrien couldn’t help but notice. And, as he watched in sudden horror and helplessness,  _tears_  began to gather in those bluebell eyes of hers, eyes that were normally full of fire and confidence. Adrien froze and gawked, watching as the tears escaped Ladybug’s eyes and began to trail down her face, dripping off her chin.

Oh  _god._  What could have  _possibly_  happened to make  _Ladybug_  cry?

“…Marinette?” Adrien asked softly, finally coming back to life as he took a step towards her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Suddenly, Ladybug rushed him. Adrien let out a soft huff as she flung herself into him, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. He hastily steadied himself, his heart  _aching_  when he heard the sobs beginning to issue from the girl in his arms. What happened to cause this??

“Marinette, talk to me,  _please._  What’s wrong? Is it an akuma? Is it your parents? What happened?”

She was saying something, but Adrien couldn’t make it out; her face was pressed into his shirt, muffling the sound of her voice. Gently, Adrien lifted her head so she would look at him.

“Pardon?”

Ladybug sniffled, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“I need you to promise me something,” she said thickly. She looked so distraught that, despite not hearing what it was yet, Adrien was quick to comply.

“Anything, Marinette.”

“I need you to stop throwing yourself into danger for me,” said Ladybug in between sniffles. Adrien felt his face go blank with shock as he processed the request…and then defiance with a pinch of guilt swam through him.

“I can’t promise you that, Marinette.”

“You  _have_  to!” Ladybug burst out, ripping herself from him as she glared at him through her tears. “You  _can’t_  keep throwing yourself into danger for me, Adrien! You’re not indestructible! One of these days, you’re going to get  _seriously_  hurt, and I won’t be able to reverse it, and if I lose you–!”

“Whoa, hey,” Adrien called over the steadily rising pitch of her voice, gripping her by the shoulders as he lowered his head to her eye level. “Who says you’re gonna lose me?”

“Tikki!” Ladybug cried, covering her face with her spotted hands. “Sh-she told me, L-Ladybug always outl-lives Chat Noir, because h-he always puts himself in d-danger for her! And you c-can’t, Adrien, you  _can’t!_ I d-don’t want to be Ladybug w-without you!”

Adrien’s heart swelled at these words. Despite the fact that his Lady was clearly upset over what she viewed as the inevitable, it was touching beyond words to hear that he meant that much to her.

“Shhh,” he hushed her, stepping closer to embrace her trembling frame. It was odd to see his spotted hero this vulnerable, but not unthinkable–she was human too, after all. Adrien rested his chin atop her dark hair, running a hand up and down her back to soothe her as he held her. “Marinette, listen to me. I can’t promise that I’ll stop protecting you…but I  _can_  promise that you’ll never lose me.”

Ladybug clutched at the front of his shirt, which was steadily getting damp from her tears.

“Y-you can’t promise that, Adrien…”

“Yes I can,” Adrien stated firmly and confidently. “You know why?”

He lifted Ladybug’s chin so she would look at him again, which took her a moment, since her eyes were squeezed shut. Once she opened them and met his gaze, he smiled.

“As hard as I fight to keep you safe, I’ll always fight twice as hard to stay by your side.” He used his thumb to brush away the tear tracks on her face. “After all, we’re a team, aren’t we?”

Ladybug hiccuped a laugh, smiling a little, much to Adrien’s relief.

“Simply the best team,” she agreed.

“That’s right,” Adrien confirmed with a chuckle. “So please don’t cry, Bugaboo. Neither heaven nor hell could drag me away from you.”

Ladybug hiccuped another laugh, resting her forehead against his chest again.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway,” Adrien pointed out, hugging her closer and resting his cheek on top of her head. There was a quiet mumbling from her, so quiet Adrien almost didn’t catch it:

“…I do.”

Smiling, Adrien let his eyes drift closed, and he merely swayed from side to side with Ladybug in his arms for a while, almost as if they were dancing.

The quiet closing of his bedroom door went unnoticed by both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a Tumblr post that ran away with me (as they do), and I had a lot of fun keeping everyone in suspense over the ending. >:3{
> 
> Luckily, you guys can just push the "Next Chapter" button. XP
> 
> ~Reyna


	14. Not on My Watch Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could've been if Nathalie was written as a better character.
> 
> Sub-title: You Don't Fuck with Mama Bear's Cubs

Nathalie quietly closed the door behind her, staring blankly at the floor.

Well…that had not been a thing she was expecting to see when she heard raised voices from Adrien’s room and had come to investigate.

Forcing a deep breath, Nathalie moved swiftly away from the young master’s bedroom, heading stiffly down the stairs and to the kitchen. The alcohol in the house was well-hidden to discourage any mischief from the teenage boy in the house (not that he was enough of a rebel to partake of such things), but nevertheless, Nathalie was able to locate the scotch just fine, and she had herself a stiff drink while she made herself face three things:

One, it seemed that Adrien was the cat-themed superhero known as Chat Noir.

Two, it appeared that Ladybug was the classmate he liked to talk about, Marinette something.

And three, it was apparent that they knew the other’s identity, and were most likely something of an item.

This…complicated things.

Nathalie stared into the depths of the scotch in her glass, taking a moment to prepare for what she would inevitably have to do next. And then she downed the rest of it in one go, making a face as the burn seared through her throat. Nathalie wasn’t even a big fan of scotch, but it was always her go-to when she had to do something unpleasant—it gave her courage like no other liquor could.

Leaving her glass in the sink, Nathalie paused for only a moment longer to straighten her blazer and her glasses. Then, when she felt ready, she marched herself to her boss’s office, knocking twice before entering.

Gabriel Agreste was sitting at his desk, the perpetual frown on his face indicating that he wasn’t in the worst of moods…but that could change so very quickly. Nathalie squared her shoulders and shut the door behind her. She stepped up to the desk, her hands folded behind her back, and waited to be acknowledged.

After a moment or two, Gabriel looked up.

“Nathalie. Since you’re just standing there, I’m assuming you have something important to tell me that cannot wait until I am through with my work?”

“That’s correct, sir,” Nathalie replied, adjusting her glasses again. Gabriel regarded her for a moment longer before he returned his attention to his computer.

“Very well. But make it quick.”

“All right.” Nathalie cleared her throat. “I have come here to ask you to cease your villainous activities, sir.”

The tapping at the computer keys paused.

Nathalie counted exactly five seconds before Gabriel met her gaze. His eyes were cold, but Nathalie could detect a hint of caution hidden within them.

“…I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Nathalie,” he replied, his voice smooth.

Nathalie raised an eyebrow.

“I think you know perfectly well what I mean, sir.”

Gabriel stood up. It was a power move, one that made him taller, seem larger than life. Normally, Nathalie would avert her eyes, as if Gabriel was a god that was forbidden to be looked upon. Tonight, however, she held the cold gaze of Gabriel Agreste as he stared down at her, appearing to size her up. Idly, she wondered if he would continue to insult her intelligence and deny that he knew what she was talking about, and began to subconsciously plan her next move accordingly.

But he surprised her.

“…How long have you known?”

“Since the attack on the mansion,” Nathalie replied calmly. “Your interest in Ladybug’s earrings was noteworthy.”

“I see.” Gabriel removed his glasses. Somehow, without the barrier of glass, his stare became even more intimidating. Nathalie stood her ground. “…Well? Are you going to explain the basis of a request that, frankly, is not within your right to make?”

Nathalie’s lips tightened.

“…I think that you’ll find that it  _is_  within my rights, sir,” she said stiffly, lifting her chin. “Especially when it concerns the fate of your son.”

That seemed to throw Gabriel off.

“What does Adrien have to do with—”

“Other than the fact that every single thing you do somehow justifies you being an absent parent to him?” Nathalie paused, taking in Gabriel’s raised brow, as if he was surprised that she had the audacity to call him out like that. She went on. “I’m sure you suspect this already, but Adrien is not as removed from all of this as you might think. He is  _very_  much involved, in fact. He’s Chat Noir.”

Gabriel closed his eyes. He was silent for a long moment. Nathalie was just about to press her case when he spoke.

“…I had hoped that was not the case…but I cannot pretend that I didn’t suspect…” He let out a sigh, and for just a moment, Nathalie saw a man she rarely saw: a man concerned for the fate of his son, the only family member he had left. For just a moment, Nathalie hoped that this conversation didn’t have to be as difficult as she thought, that maybe she could appeal to his better nature after all—

But all too soon, the cold invaded once more, and Gabriel was ice again, regarding her with an unfeeling, stone gaze.

“…However, if Adrien insists upon this…foolish path of his, then so be it. I have done all I can to protect him—”

“ _You_  are the main reason he’s in danger!” Nathalie burst out. She didn’t mean to react so strongly, but the  _disbelief_  that flooded her as the man before her claimed he was  _protecting_  his son! Was he truly so caught up in his own motives that he couldn’t see Adrien’s pain? At  _all?_

Gabriel’s scowl deepened.

“I did not force that ring upon his finger, Nathalie. Yes, he chose this path for himself. If you are so concerned about him, you would be better off trying to dissuade him from his foolish notions of heroism rather than trying to reason with  _me,_  because frankly, nothing you say is going to sway me from what I have set out to do. And, once again, it is nowhere within  _your_  right to question  _my_ decisions.”

Nathalie took another deep breath to steady herself.

“…Forgive me, sir. I spoke out of turn.”

Gabriel’s facial features relaxed; it seemed that he believed Nathalie was backing down. Instead, she stepped forward so that she was toe to toe with his pointed shoes, lifting her eyes to meet his and standing as tall as she was able.

“Allow me to be frank from this point onwards: if you continue to endanger Adrien’s life like this, I will have no choice but to get the authorities involved.”

Gabriel’s face went blank with shock. Nathalie counted seven seconds before he was able to gain complete control of his expression again.

“What did you say…?”

“I didn’t stutter,  _sir,_ ” Nathalie replied coolly. Gabriel’s eyes flashed before he seemed to remember to keep his cool, and his expression went neutral.

“As if the authorities would possibly believe such a ridiculous story—”

“Do you truly think I don’t have any proof? Do you  _still_  think that hideaway of yours is a secret after I learned the truth? Do you really believe that you have gone unobserved this whole time?”

If it was possible, Gabriel went even paler.

“When did you—”

“Let’s just say you’re not as untraceable as you believe and leave it at that,” Nathalie answered. “And if you believe me to be an inconvenient witness, I will add that my word is not the only thing against you. In this day and age, video recordings speak the loudest, wouldn’t you agree?”

Now Gabriel’s face was  _completely_  bloodless.

“You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” Nathalie raised an eyebrow again. “Would you like to test me?”

“…And how would the police react, knowing that you’ve known the identity of a supervillain all this time, and are just now coming forward?”

“If I am implicated as well, then so be it. As long as Adrien is free of you.”

This stand-off took a lot longer to break; it was fifteen seconds before Gabriel thought of a comeback.

“Nathalie,” he began sternly, sounding like he was having trouble keeping his voice at a reasonable level, “I pay you to take care of my son—”

“Exactly,” Nathalie interrupted, “you pay me to take care of Adrien.”

Gabriel’s jaw tightened, as if he did not appreciate this simple fact being used against him.

“But that could change very quickly,” he finished severely. Nathalie regarded him coolly. Was that supposed to be a threat?

“Allow me to put things into perspective for you, Gabriel.” She lifted her left hand, as if she was balancing a weight within her palm. “If I pursue this,  _I_  lose my job, and possibly even my freedom if I am charged with aiding and abetting a supervillain…” She raised her right hand now, to match her left’s position. “…But  _you_  lose  _your_  freedom, as well as your son, your fashion empire, your reputation, and your pride.” Nathalie raised an eyebrow. “I wonder—which one of us stands to lose the most here?”

As if he needed help, Nathalie illustrated the difference by letting her right hand sink significantly lower than her left. Gabriel didn’t appreciate this demonstration, if the vein beginning to pulse in his temple was any indication. Nathalie chose not to give him the chance to blow up; she had made her request and had made plain what would happen if he chose not to grant it. The rest was up to him, now.

“I’ll give you the night to think it over,” she told him, adjusting her glasses again before she took a step back, turning from him. “I hope to hear you’ll make the right decision tomorrow morning.”

“Do you actually believe you’re doing the right thing?” Gabriel shot at her back as she walked away. “Do you think Adrien would  _thank_  you for trying to take him away from me?”

That slowed Nathalie’s steps.

As loath as she was to admit it…Gabriel had a point. No matter how many times Adrien had been let down and disappointed by his father…he was still his father. And ever since Madame Agreste had disappeared, she had seen how desperate he had been to connect with his father…even if Gabriel did nothing but shut him out. No, he would not be happy about this turn of events…he might even grow to hate her for it.

But…

“…He won’t thank me,” she admitted, though the words stung some deep, hidden part of her. “To Adrien, this would be me effectively tearing him from what remains of the family he once knew…”

In her mind’s eye, Nathalie saw it once more: the sight of a powerful superheroine cradled in Adrien’s arms as he spoke soothing words to her, rocking her from side to side. Nathalie could see just how much love and trust there was there between them, and it made her heart ache in several good, bad, and complicated ways. But the main thing she registered, there in that hug, was that Adrien was no longer alone.

And that  _meant_  something.

“…But…I believe, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he now knows that ‘family’ isn’t the only thing that matters. I believe that, if he doesn’t see it now, then he will…that he has people who love him, even without being blood-related.”

“You could never replace his mother, Nathalie.”

The words were designed to hurt her, and they did, a lot more than she was expecting. By sheer force of will, Nathalie kept her composure, though she did not look at Gabriel. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how deep he had cut.

“I will never be Adrien’s mother, that’s true. And that’s fine. I will just be the person who  _truly_  has his best interests at heart. Good night, sir.”

Nathalie reached the door before Gabriel’s voice rang out across the office again, and it was not as calm now.

“You’re making a mistake, Nathalie. Do not pursue this. It will only end very badly for you.”

That made Nathalie turn to look at him. She took in the hands clenched into fists at his sides, the scowl on his face, the tension of his jaw. It was the look of a man who hated to be challenged…and outmatched.

Nathalie had him. He knew it. And she would make sure that he knew that she knew it.

“With all due respect, sir…” Nathalie’s eyelids lowered dangerously, and she dropped her voice an octave, “…try me.”

Gabriel stared at her, but she did not stay to further debate the issue. Instead she walked out, her steps clack, clack, clacking on the marble floor.

As she walked, Nathalie made herself come to terms with the fact that she had just put herself in a precarious position with her employer…an employer who also happened to be a dangerous supervillain. It was very likely that she would be dismissed from her position in the morning…but no matter. She did not need a reference from Gabriel Agreste to find work elsewhere. And besides, she had enough funds that her threat to pursue legal action against him was not unfounded.

In one night, Nathalie Sancoeur had made herself an enemy of Gabriel Agreste.

But if it meant protecting Adrien from the likes of the man he called “Father”, Nathalie would do a lot more than become an enemy.

She would make herself Gabriel Agreste’s worst nightmare.

* * *

 

The next morning, Master Fu awoke to discover an unmarked box on his front step.

In the box was the Butterfly Miraculous.

“…But how?” Wayzz questioned, staring down at the long missing Miraculous. Master Fu hummed, stroking his beard.

“I don’t know. But stranger things have happened, haven’t they?”

 


	15. Close Quarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To be fair, it was a REALLY good kiss. Louper NSFW.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back on my bullshit with Louper, mostly because I rediscovered this gem here.
> 
> Proceed with caution; it gets spicy. ;)
> 
> Enjoy! <3
> 
> ~Reyna

Louis squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. He couldn’t believe this–one kiss, and he just couldn’t calm down. It was ridiculous. He partially blamed it on the fact that it had been Piper he was kissing…but it also had to be noted that he hadn’t had sex with anyone since his daughter came into his life–

“Daddy!”

Louis jumped, his attention stolen by Mariposa, who was grinning at him with her strained peas all over her face instead of in her bowl where they belonged. Louis sighed, but smiled.

“Aw, did you make a mess, Mariposa?” He cooed, not even able to scold her over it when she was smiling so adorably. Instead, he just released her from her high chair, carrying her over to the kitchen sink to clean her up. “Now you’re gonna be hungry when Grandma comes to pick you up.”

“Gramma!” Mariposa cheered, squirming only a little as Louis ran a warm cloth over her face.

“That’s right, Grandma’s taking you to the park today,” Louis reminded his daughter, grinning at the gleeful look on her face. Honestly, this was good timing–with someone else watching Mariposa, Louis could take a moment to take care of this rather urgent situation that he found himself in…

A few minutes later, his mother showed up, eagerly taking hold of her granddaughter and her diaper bag as soon as both were offered to her.

“We’ll be back in a couple hours,” she assured Louis as he kissed her cheek in thanks. She stood on the threshold of his apartment, peering keenly up at him. “So…how is it, living with Piper?”

“Oh! It’s great,” Louis enthused, trying to look as naturally as he could. “Yeah, she’s been great. We’re great.”

Marinette stared at him. Louis felt his face flush.

“What?” He asked, recognizing that look–it was that look she used to give him when something had gone wrong in the house, and she was  _sure_  he had something to do with it, even if she couldn’t prove it yet.

“Nothing,” she decided after searching his face for a tense minute. “You’re an adult, so I don’t want to butt in too much…” She hoisted Mariposa higher into her arms, raising her eyebrows pointedly. “I’ll just say that I hope you’ve learned from your…past decisions.”

Louis was sure he knew what she was implying. Before he could get a word out to  ~~lie~~  deny that anything like that was happening between him and Piper, Mariposa squirmed, patting her grandmother’s shoulder.

“Park!” She said, demanding it, though she said it in such a cute manner that Marinette ended up just laughing.

“All right, my sweet girl, we’re going. Say bye-bye to Daddy for now.”

“Bye-bye, Daddy!”

Louis waved goodbye as they stepped into the elevator. Once the doors closed and they were out of sight, he retreated, blowing out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. Alone at last.

His eyes strayed to Piper’s closed door. Well… _almost_  alone…

He moved down the hall, stopping outside her door. After they had gotten back from…their date, he supposed, she had said she was exhausted and needed a nap. He had let her be, because he had needed to feed Mariposa before his mother came to get her, but now he wondered: was she really tired? Or had she just needed some time from him to…process what was happening between them?

Louis raised his hand, knuckles just a few centimeters shy of the door. He could knock, see if she was okay, if she needed anything from him…anything at all…

‘ _Down boy,_ ’ his thoughts chided, and he sighed again, forcing himself to step away from Piper’s door. If she needed space, he would give it to her. Besides, he was in no fit state to talk to her right now anyway.

Biting his lip, Louis entered his room instead, tugging at the belt of his jeans, which had been way too tight ever since he had gotten home. As he kicked them down to his ankles, his hand brushed the bulge in his boxers, and he shivered. Too long…it had been too long since he’d had time to himself like this.

He let out a shaky breath, knees almost buckling as he slipped a hand into his boxers. If only it was Piper here with him right now, touching him, blowing on his ear as she stroked him, her lips curving into that sassy smile he loved so much–

Groaning, he teetered his way to his bed, laying back as he took care of himself, the bottom of his shirt clenched in between his teeth as he moaned. He had to be careful–these walls were thin, and if Piper heard him…ah, but this felt great, it had been  _way_ too long since he’d had time to himself.

“Mmf,” he mumbled, a particularly hasty jerk drawing a gasp of pleasure from him. He froze, cursing himself, and rolled over, biting into the corner of his pillow to keep himself more quiet. And still,  _she_ was there in his mind, her slim hand wrapped around his cock, slowly working him into a frenzy the way only she could. “A-ah…Piper…”

She giggled in his mind, her tongue tracing the shell of his ear, whispering the most beautiful, filthy things to him as she stroked him, and a whine escaped him, his hand moving faster. So close…he was so close–

His teeth clenched hard around the pillow, muffling his strangled moans as he came, hips jerking against the bed, the friction delicious, if not a little hollow. After all, this wasn’t what he actually wanted–he wanted a warm body, soft, brown skin, hazel eyes that danced with mischief and desire–

Something creaked behind him.

Louis sat up hastily, wide eyes going to the door…the door that hadn’t been open a few minutes ago.

But it was now, and he was no longer alone in the room. Piper stood just beyond the doorway, as if she had barged in to ask him something, but had frozen upon spotting him on the bed, pleasuring himself at the thought of her. Louis stared at her, gaping like a fish, horror turning his whole face red. Just when had she walked in?!

Piper was staring at him, eyes wide, lips parted. He had no idea what to say to her. He didn’t know how long she had been standing there, so he didn’t know how much she had seen, how much she had  _heard_ –

“Everything,” Piper whispered, and Louis jolted, wondering if he had asked the question out loud by accident, or if she could just tell by the look on his face. “I heard everything.”

Oh god, his dick was still out. He shifted, trying to angle his leg so that his half-dressed state was hidden from view, and oh god, this could  _not_  get any worse.

“Piper,” Louis began, his mouth drying up as he realized he had absolutely nothing to say. “I–”

He floundered, but words soon became unnecessary: in an instant, Piper was with him, climbing into his lap as her lips mashed into his. This sudden bold move threw Louis off–he paused, but only for a moment, because the sound of Piper’s soft whimper as she kissed him had him  _unbearably_  hard within seconds. He found himself shoving any other avenue of thought out of his mind that didn’t involve kissing her, touching her, and giving her anything and everything she wanted right here and now.

She was dressed for bed–camisole and shorts. Louis eased her out of such unnecessary clothes, taking care to kiss every freckled patch of skin he could reach, spurred on by Piper’s sighs and giggles. He took his time getting reacquainted with her body, for it had been much, much too long since they had done this, too. He found new additions–mysterious scars here and there, some of them shallow, others, not so much. They made him curious, wondering what he had missed in their time apart…but he would ask later. Right now, he had more important things to address, like the heat between her legs, which trembled slightly as he slid them apart. He met her eyes, wanting to make sure that this was okay, that they were okay. Piper swallowed, smiling and nodding a little when he met her eyes. God, she was beautiful.

Giving her a cheeky grin, he took his time once again, kissing and nipping at the skin of her thighs, listening to her whines and moans of frustration reach a certain frequency before he indulged her, his tongue darting out to eagerly taste her once again.

“ _Oh,_ ” Piper moaned, and Louis’ dick twitched, impatient. Still, he restrained himself. There was no sense in rushing a good thing, was there?

Slowly, he enjoyed her, relishing in her moans and sighs, the way her back arched off the bed as he got her going, her hand in his hair, gripping him for dear life as he reduced her to a shivering puddle as her orgasm broke over her. He lifted his head, licking his lips as he moved forward, kissing her neck.

“You taste so good,” he mumbled into her skin, and felt her shiver underneath him. Her fingers closed around him, just as he was imagining mere minutes ago, and he grunted, letting out a slow breath. It was ridiculous, this power she had over him. He loved it.

“Louis,” Piper mumbled, and suddenly, there was wet heat at his tip. “Please.”

Louis paused, gripping her wrist to keep her from putting his dick inside her.

“Hold on…” He leaned over, yanking open his nightstand for that elusive box of condoms he made sure to keep there, always, just in case, because as much as he loved his daughter, he was  _not_  stupid enough to forego protection again. His parents would kill him.

Piper laughed at the sight of it.

“Oh, right. Safety first,” she teased him with a wink, and Louis couldn’t stop himself from kissing her. She tugged his shirt off of him and kissed his neck as he worked to put the condom on; it took him a bit longer than usual, since her teeth nibbling at his ear was  _very_  distracting.

“Piper,” he began as he hovered over her, holding her eyes as his tip stopped just between her legs. He meant to ask her if she was sure, if this was actually what she wanted. If there was even the slightest doubt, the smallest trepidation about what they were about to do–

Piper wrapped an arm around his neck, tugging him down to kiss her.

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” she told him, eyes burning as she gazed up at him, her free hand smoothing through his hair. Louis closed his eyes, relishing in her touch. Well, who was he to keep her waiting…?

As he slid inside her, a riot of sensations hit Louis all at once:  _soft, warm,_ and  _tight_  swam through his haze-addled brain, and he stuttered out a moan, his hands fisting into the pillow under Piper. His eyes squeezed shut, and he drew in a jagged breath through his teeth. Oh god. This felt so good already.  _She felt so good._  He didn’t want to lose it already, not when he had been dreaming of this for years–

She tightened around him, and her moan matched his, her lips colliding with his once again.

“Louis,” she breathed against his lips, her legs locking around him, as if to ensure that he couldn’t escape. “Please, please,  _please_ –”

Louis thrust deeper into her, unable to refuse her. The little cry she gave spurred him on, and he ignored everything that wasn’t her face, bliss transforming her features as he set his steady rhythm. Fuck it–he wanted her to feel good. That was his number one priority right now. Everything else could wait, because he  _lived_  for the noises she made, her nails ghosting across his skin as they rocked together, digging deeper to match his thrusts when he got a little rough.

“Piper,” he moaned, over and over and over again, unable to help himself, because any time he had been with any other woman, he had had to mash his teeth into his tongue to keep from saying her name, because he had so desperately  _wished_  that all those women had been her. But now that it was her in his arms, he couldn’t stop himself; her name flowed from him, a river breaking free of a clumsily-built dam. “Piper, Piper,  _Piper._ ”

“I’m here,” Piper gasped, holding him close even as their pace became frantic, their moans wild and unrestrained, the headboard of Louis’ bed knocking into the wall more persistently with every second. “I’m here, Louis. I’m here.”

How did she always know what he needed to hear? The soft assurances filled him with warmth, and Louis let himself go, giving himself over to their shared passion, unashamed of the wrecked moans leaving him as they climbed higher, higher–oh god, he was too close, it was too much, he couldn’t last–

Piper seized him, mashing her lips to his again as they climaxed, their moans muffled by the passionate kiss. Louis had to break away to breathe after a moment, his body giving way to exhaustion as he collapsed against her, panting. Piper clung to him, her whimpers quieting as they came down, the room slowly cooling.

Louis blinked slowly, warmth spreading through him, making him tingle. This…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

“Piper,” he mumbled, waiting until she hummed to signal that she was listening before he continued, although the words threatened to get caught in his throat. “…I love you.”

Piper’s fingers paused, where they had been dragging through his hair. After a moment, she giggled. Louis closed his eyes, pressing his ear to her chest to memorize the sound.

“It doesn’t count if you say it right after sex,” she chided him, and Louis snorted. “…But I love you, too.”

Louis felt a slow grin spread across his face.

“I love you,” he repeated himself, pressing a kiss to her collar bone. Piper laughed again.

“I love you, too,” she said once more.

“I love you.” Now he kissed her cheek, watching as she rolled her eyes.

“You too, Louis.”

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing the tip of her nose. Now Piper gave him a dry look, though he could see that her skin was rather flushed.

“Just how many times do you plan on saying it?” She asked him. He smiled softly, pecking her lips last.

“Just one more time: I love you, Piper.”

Piper smiled, her eyes glowing as she tugged him down to her again, bumping their foreheads together.

“About time, you dork.”


End file.
